


fata viam invenient

by grandlovers



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming of Age, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Heavy Angst, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Mercenaries, Other, POV Third Person Omniscient, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Bonding, Slice of Life, Time Skips, demon lore, headcanons about the twins’ powers, petty crimes, they may have survived together but they still got issues to work through, twin merc AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27304837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandlovers/pseuds/grandlovers
Summary: Everything they had ever known was destroyed. Their mother, sweet innocent mother, consumed by a raging fire. Any traces of their father, any belongings of theirs, everything that symbolizedDante and Vergilwas gone in mere minutes.Yet the sun shone, a breeze blew the trees, birds sang a cheery tune; Vergil realized in that moment the world would move on with or without them.And so, onward they will go, to a new beginning.--an AU of Dante & Vergil surviving together, creating a new life on the streets, and becoming mercenaries.inspired by the DMC1 novel
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 123





	1. prologue: the butterfly effect

**Author's Note:**

> i loved the first novel and while i didn't care for the confusion behind Gilver, i wanted to form my own twin merc AU. esp after reading the latest chapter of VoV. thats it. prepare for angst, and buckle up for this first chapter, folks
> 
> comments are appreciated, and id love to discuss the twins here, or you can talk to me on twitter! (@glitterghost)

“Come on! Just give it to me! I wanna see it!”

“Absolutely not! It’s mine, and you don’t even read books anyway!”

Two white-haired twins fight over a gold-embossed book, said book at risk of being pulled apart by their vigorous back and forth motions. 

“You will just hide it and tell me to fight you if I want it back, right?”

Dante, the instigator, replied with a lopsided grin, “Well, since you know that just play with me!”

Vergil grit his teeth and abruptly let go of the book, offsetting his twin. Before Dante tripped over his feet, Vergil violently stomped into Dante’s chest and pinned him to the ground. Dust blew up in his face as he caught the airborne book. 

“Now you’re talking!” Dante exclaimed, gripping Vergil’s ankle and pushing him off, also using the momentum to push his body up and kick Vergil on the cheek. Vergil sputtered, blood dripping from his nose. 

Dante tossed his twin a wooden sword, “Here ya go!”

Chips and splinters flew as the two clash swords. Vergil backed up, narrowly missing a blunt strike to the abdomen. 

“Fine. I’ll finish my book after I make you cry,” Vergil held up his sword, its wooden tip pointed at the chest of his twin. 

In a lackadaisical manner, Dante propped his own weapon on his shoulder, “Bring it on! Although, with that condition, guess ya won’t be reading today, huh?”

Their twin visages lacked identical expressions as they stared each other down. Dante, smug, while Vergil’s eyebrows furrowed in agitation. Though they had a common idea in mind as they sprinted toward one another, weapons raised with deadly intent.

“ _Boys!_ ” 

Blades weakly crossed as a commanding, feminine voice rang out. The twins watched with doe eyes as their mother stepped up to them from inside the house. With hands on her hips and a stern look capable of rendering a grown man useless, their childish antics were left behind. 

Her kind voice was laced with exasperation, “Fighting again!? Look at the both of you, there’s blood and dirt all over yourselves!”

Vergil’s bruised cheek and bleeding nose had quickly healed, but dry blood stayed smeared across his teeth and lips; Dante’s once pristine white blouse was stained, and Eva pushed back the thoughts of the large effort that would be later needed to clean his clothes.

Her boys simultaneously pointed at each other, yelling accusingly. 

“He started it!”

“It’s his fault!”

Almost comically, they glowered and wrestled one another to the ground, even more dirt and blood spraying as punches and kicks fly in a whirling heap. 

Eva felt her head spin. “Good grief, boys! Boys!” she yelled louder, finally halting her twins’ behavior as she pulled them apart by their collars. The boys fell on their bottoms and they stared up at their mother, shamefully awaiting her next lecture. Some days Eva punished them for their misconduct, either through chores or by placing them in individual timeouts, far away from their aggravating sibling. Vergil secretly hoped for the latter, just for precious alone time. 

Any annoyance Eva had slid off of her as she sighs, “Dante, stop agitating your brother. You too Vergil, you’re the oldest and should set a better example. If you two won’t listen, then I have no choice. Vergil, I will have you help me weed the garden today. Dante-”

Vergil quickly raised up and took off, “No! I don’t want to! I wanted to read today!” 

Eva called after him, but made no move to follow him. It was probably for the best he had some time to cool off. Dante stretched like a cat where he sat, seemingly uncaring of his brother’s outburst.

Gold reflected in her periphery and she noticed an embellished book lying on the ground. Not recognizing it from their own library, she thought to the bookish, elderly neighbor Vergil visited regularly— she would have to thank him when she sees him again. She picked it up and opened the cover, smiling at the prettily written ‘Vergil’ in ink. “Oh, what will he do when he realizes he left his book behind?”

Eva tucked it under her arm, and motioned to Dante, “I didn’t forget about your punishment, Dante. Please clean yourself up and wash the dishes in the sink. When you’re done come find me, okay?”

Dante nodded, knowing better than to gripe at that moment. He glanced back to where he assumed Vergil ran off; to the mini playground they used to play together in, and then closed the mansion’s front doors behind him. 

⚔⚔

Eva sat in the conservatory with a book propped in her lap. A half an hour had passed and no sign of Vergil— oddly, in that time alone the sky had extensively darkened to the point she feared an awfully tremendous thunderstorm would hit. Yet, the grass and house stayed bone dry. 

Her concerns were interrupted by the thumping of Dante outside the door. He, in his raucous version of sidling, slipped in the crack of the door and sheepishly waited with his hands behind his back. He puffed long hair out of his face and rocked on his heels, “I finished the dishes.”

Eva nodded, and noted his new, cleaner black attire, “Good, thank you Dante. I have one last job for you.”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Can you fetch your brother for me? I believe it may start storming and he hasn’t come in yet.”

Dante grinned, “I can drag him in, yeah!”

“Dante,” she softly admonished, “No fighting, I mean it. Please be quick, I don’t want either of you caught in the rain. 

“We will be back before you know it, mom!”

“Be careful,” she said. As Dante headed out the door, she picked up Vergil’s poetry book next to her and traced the cover with her finger. 

The room dimmed even further as black clouds rolled over. Eva hoped they would be back in soon, a shiver trickling down her spine as the temperature began to lower. 

⚔⚔

“Hey, Vergil!”

Vergil breathed in deeply, and exhaled forcefully out of his nose, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the spring rider he sits on. “What, Dante? Did mom send you?”

“Does it matter?” Dante stepped closer, “It’s gonna rain, and you should come inside with me unless you like being drenched.”

“No, I don’t,” Vergil replied, arms crossed and still refusing to make eye contact with his twin. 

Dante chuckled, “Nah, you’re right. You hate your hair getting wet ‘cause then you look like me, terrible right?” He smoothed his hair down, mocking Vergil’s wet mop of hair, “ _Don’t mess my hair up, Dante!_ ” A nasal tone accompanied his impersonation, fueling the heat coursing through Vergil’s veins. 

“Shut up!” Vergil threw a punch at his twin, Dante missing a broken nose by a few inches. 

Dante’s inner voice that screamed for play and time with his twin muffled Eva’s gentle voice wishing for zero conflict. As long as neither of them drew blood, he figured his mom wouldn’t be too upset. 

So he dodged each hit and then grabbed his twin’s fist, twisting his arm and spinning him forward. He beamed, proud of his maneuver until Vergil quickly regained his bearings and kicked Dante square in the chest. Thankfully it wasn’t as forceful as earlier, and he managed to stand his ground. 

“Why do you feel the need to anger me all the time!?” Vergil yelled. 

Dante yelled back, “You won’t play with me unless I do!”

“That’s not true! I play with you all the time!”

“Sitting in the same room together isn’t playing together!”

Vergil growled, “Why do I have to play by your rules! Sometimes I don’t want to fight with swords, I want to sit and enjoy reading! Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean I can’t!”

Vergil continued, cutting off any retort, “I have my interests too, Dante! I might be your twin but I want my alone time!”

“But all you want is alone time! Ever since dad left-”

“Dante, shut up!”

Dante screamed, “No!”

An explosive crackle is heard distantly in the background, though neither boy hears it over the pounding in their ears, “Ever since dad left, you want nothing to do with me! We used to train with dad all the time and you enjoyed it! Now I have to force you to play with me! It’s not fair!”

Hot tears dripped down Dante’s face, “I just want to be around you, Vergil. You’re my brother. .”

A cold pang of guilt hit Vergil in the stomach. He knew, god he knew this. Other than mom, they have no one else. He briefly clutched his hair and then let it go. He wished he knew the right thing to say, the right words to soothe his twin. 

“Dante, I-”

“Vergil!” His twin roared, “Behind you!”

Vergil turned sharply to meet the empty eye sockets of a towering skeleton, a crown of thorns adorning its skull and a wicked blade held tightly in its grasp. A hiss escaped its teeth as it thrust its blade toward Vergil. Adrenaline slammed into his body and he rolled out of the way. 

His vision swam as he struggled to drink everything in around him. Skeletal demons and his twin ran circles around each other, Dante scurrying with inhuman speed. 

“Demons. . .” he whispered, “Why? Why are they here!?”

A dagger scraped the skin off his arm and Vergil stumbled. They were relentless; swords, scythes, and daggers whistling a deadly harmony in the still air.   
He barely noticed the vantablack canvas above him, and the bright red hues from his home beginning to dye the sky. He used the one second of freedom to sprint toward Dante, keen on staying close with him lest the situation worsened further. 

Dante had rolled down the hill, heaving and cursing as he fought off the demons. Wounds littered his body and a chunk of his bangs had been sliced off. Lack of training aside, they were not ready nor equipped to fight all of them off. They didn’t even have the wooden swords, not as if they would have lasted long. 

Vergil ran ideas and plans through his head, and in the process of, he suddenly remembered Eva. 

_‘Wait! Mom! Is she okay!?’_

He managed to tear his eyes from Dante’s feral form and merely moved his sight by inches— every glimpse worse than the last. Unimaginable fright froze his limbs and the pounding in his ears ceased. He felt nothing, saw nothing but the sight of his blazing home. 

How he didn’t notice before, he didn’t know. How he didn’t smell burning wood and the fumes of smoke, how he didn’t see the red bleeding into black. 

His mother, his poor mother. She was alone, and she’s burning . . !

A blade impaled Vergil’s chest. The sensation of ribs splintering and his lungs filling with fluid nearly made him sick. He pushed down the urge to vomit. _‘Run!’_ echoed in his skull, but he was rooted to the spot. When the blade was ripped out, Vergil fell to the ground, gripping the gore spilling out of the wound. 

Dante’s agonizing scream rang in his ears and he feebly reached out to him. 

“Dante, mom. . please, someone help us!”

Vergil’s weakened body is skewered with spears and daggers, an untold amount of blood splattering the dirt. _Death is near— it must be,_ he thought. 

Before he could accept the painful end, a demonic shriek he recognized as Dante snapped him awake. He watched a recognizable, massive sword weave through the air and slice the skeletons in half. 

Dante screamed for his mother, having seen their home become her crematorium. Crimson energy wrapped around his figure in the same silhouette of the flames licking up their home. Inky blood rendered his features indiscernible, save for the glowing slits in his eyes. 

Vergil’s body responded to the surge of power his twin released, and his skin tugged at his wounds and stitched them together. 

“I must help him. . . my brother, I need to save him! I need. . I need power!”

A familiar and comforting hilt materialized in Vergil’s hands, and his eyes widened at the treasured sword that answered its master, “Yamato!”

He strengthened his grip, and shakily stood up, “I will survive this. They can’t stop us, not like this. I won’t allow it!” 

Numerous demons appeared around him, weapons poised. 

In one stunningly silent swing, chopped skulls and fragments of bone were sent in every direction. Vergil’s muscles switched to a memory unknown and he mimicked the movements of a vicious, bloodthirsty demon. His tunnel vision broadened, allowing him to predict and react accordingly to each threat standing in his way. 

The twins’ respective blue and red bodies dealt death in a fast-paced dance. They bounced from enemy to enemy, eliminating them with beautiful precision. 

Vergil fell to his knees as the last of them crumbled to dust. His clothes were tattered, and he patted his collarbone to find his gold amulet absent. To his luck, he found the broken chain necklace a few feet away. With the Yamato in one hand, he palmed the jewel in the other. He spotted Dante walking to the mansion, Rebellion clutched to his chest. 

Dante stood in front of the mansion, eerily silent as the second level collapsed into the lower level. The searing heat of the flames dried up his tears. He didn't turn back when Vergil caught up to him. 

“She’s gone.”

Vergil was silent. 

“She’s gone. S-she burned in the house.”

Still, Vergil couldn’t find the words to respond. He realized in that moment that everything they’ve ever known or had was gone. Their mother, traces of their dad, his books, Dante’s toys, their room. . . Anything that symbolized Dante and Vergil had been destroyed. 

He looked to Dante, knowing the one thing he had left was his twin. His twin that he had ignored and rejected after their father’s disappearance. 

“Dante, I’m sorry,” he says, the sentences poured out of him, “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry for not playing with you more.”

“I’m sorry too, Vergil,” Dante whispered, “I’m sorry to Mom for everything I did. I hated that I made her mad so many times. And I, I regret not saying ‘I love you’ before I left.”

He broke down again, Rebellion hitting the ground with a clatter. 

“Dante, I think she knows even if we didn’t say it then.”

His twin sobbed harder, “I wish I said it before I left! I wish I brought you back sooner and we could’ve been together! She could’ve been with us! We could’ve protected her!”

Vergil’s mouth goes dry. His throat closed up and he felt his eyes water. He sniffled and fought the ensuing breakdown. 

“Dante, let’s go. We shouldn’t stay here any longer.”

“But Mom! What if she— What if, what if she’s still alive!?”

Vergil shook his head and grabbed Dante’s arm, “She isn’t, Dante. We have to go. More demons could arrive”. His voice cracked on the last syllable as he struggled to keep the tears at bay. 

Instead of standing with Vergil, Dante brought his twin down to his level and clung to him, crying furiously into the remains of his shirt. Vergil faintly identified the outline of the amulet around Dante’s neck, but the relief didn't register. 

Vergil held Dante for what seemed like ages. The house fire raged on but quickly became background noise. The hellish blackness of the sky faded to the real-time sunset; oranges, reds, yellows and pinks streaking across the blue dome. Yet, it does not soothe him like he believed it would. A breeze blows past them, trees sway, the sun shone-- and he realized the world was continuing on even if their own little world had come to an end. 

_‘The world will move on with or without us. We have the choice of following it or wallowing in the past.’_

As Dante quieted down, Vergil smoothed his hair down, “Are you ready, Dante?”

“Yeah,” he sniffed in response. “Vergil, where are we gonna go?”

“Wherever we want to.”

Dante let his head fall on Vergil’s shoulder, “I guess that sounds nice.”

“I think it does. You and I can do whatever we want, sounds amazing, right?”

Dante smiled, “It does. As long as we’re together, anything is good.”

“Right,” Vergil replied. “C’mon then,” he took Dante’s hand and they stood. Dante picked up Rebellion, and hand in hand, they left their burning home behind.


	2. mean streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins make the most of what they have, become petty criminals, and go 0 days without getting into a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple things real quick! I went back and edited chapter one/the prologue into past tense as well as fixed it up a bit. nothing substantial so you don't have to go back and read it, unless ya want to ofc ;)
> 
> also, I added more tags and changed the summary. the next few chapters will focus on the twins' orphan life and adolescence, and then we will get into the 'meat' of the story, aka merc twins!! anyway, hope you enjoy, and comments/kudos are appreciated! 🖤

**_5 months later_ **

Dante brushed off another cobweb clinging to a door frame. Every step inside their “new home” had been face-first into nasty webs and his whole body started to have phantom itches. Vergil acted as if the place was perfect, but he caught the disgusted expressions his twin made when he disturbed the thick layer of dust covering the floors and furniture. Dante believed Vergil was so sick of their past few months sleeping in parks and bathing in fountains that he would take anything at that point.

The other reason was due to a demon attacking them in their sleep. After skipping Red Grave, they seemed to have lost most demons’ trails, as the encounters were slim to none, granted they never used demonic powers. That led them to lowering their guard, and a bat-like monster suddenly tried to take off with the twins. Vergil then swore he would find a “permanent” place for them to sleep, refusing to allow another (human or demon) to ambush them again. Dante had agreed, and they set off searching for a remotely livable house away from the eyes of society. 

While humans mostly paid them no attention, the few that did either praised their platinum hair, or gazed pitifully upon them at the sight of their ragged clothes. Another Vergil thing seemed to despise, not that Dante couldn’t agree.

The search led the twins to a condemned townhome sandwiched between empty buildings and set on the outskirts of Enamel City. Though supposedly condemned due to structural damage, Dante didn’t mind the large hole in the second floor, neither did Vergil. 

He found what he believed to be a master bedroom, and strangely, the only bedroom in the home. The bed was completely black, either its original hue or due to the dust. The last rays of dusk from the window lit his way as he investigated the room. Just like downstairs, the furniture was antique and looked even older than his late parents’ decor. A dresser and an unusable mirror, a wardrobe, an entrance to a bathroom— Dante immediately backtracked after seeing the walls and tub covered in black mold. 

An odd sensation flared in his chest and throat. He felt a bit like crying, a bit like punching his twin, and a tinge of cold regret. None of this was what he pictured for himself and his twin; then again, they had no money. Money equaled comfort and ultimately, happiness. 

In the old days (Dante nearly chuckled thinking of it that way) they never wanted for anything. Even so, Eva had instilled the virtue of thankfulness into them, and they were fully aware of their privilege living in an opulent mansion. The nostalgia hurt more than he thought, and he pushed away the reminiscences of soft beds and clean bathrooms. 

Dante wondered if they should have looked for the possible fortunes of his father’s before leaving the house behind, but he shoved that thought away as well. Such an action was the last thing on their minds at the time, and if there was anything he would have gone back in for, it wouldn’t have been for riches. 

He inhaled deeply to clear his head and promptly coughed from the stale air. Throwing his hands in the air, he exited the bedroom and sensed Vergil’s crisp cobalt presence among the blurry grey of the house. Dante found him in the relatively sizable kitchen, rummaging through broken cupboards. 

Vergil turned just as Dante snatched the handkerchief out of his back pocket. “How was the upstairs?” he asked. 

Dante blew his nose, “Dusty, smelly.. Moldy. You said it wasn’t that bad, but it looks like shit.”

“There’s a bed and a bathroom at least,” Vergil scrunched his nose, more than likely at Dante’s vulgar word choice, “All the rooms down here seem to be storage rooms and closets.”

Dante tried to hand back the cloth but his twin refused it, “This place is weird.”

“It’s also the only place that is livable for us. Or would you rather continue to live under a bridge?”

Dante narrowed his eyes but stayed quiet. 

“I don’t like it either, Dante. Unfortunately, we have to work with what we have, which is _nothing_. The fact I was able to find somewhere that wasn't _completely_ falling apart or infested with rats is a blessing and we should treat it as such.”

“Whatever.” Dante plopped down on a rickety dining chair and ignored the dust exploding up from the cushion, “What now?”

“We clean. I refuse to live in squalor any longer.”

“Clean? What?” Dante drew out the syllables. He huffed, but he didn’t want to sleep on filthy floors, either. Or next to nests of spider eggs. “Ugh, whatever. But clean with what exactly?”

“With disinfectants and sponges, what else?”

“We don’t have- _Oooh_ ,” Dante’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as the realization hit him. He stood up with enough force to knock the chair back, “Where we hittin’?”

Vergil crossed his arms, “Don’t act excited over this, this is not a game.”

“Sure it is. We get to play as sneaky spies and steal the oh-so-sought after window cleaner and a holy sponge.”

“Ugh what are you, a child?”

Dante raised his eyebrows as if it was obvious, “Yeah.”

Vergil clicked his tongue and headed toward the front door. 

“Besides, you had fun stealing that fancy blue comb a couple of weeks ago.”

“I did not.”

“You did!”

“I did not!”

“You dii~id!” Dante replied in singsong. 

“I’m not arguing with you! There are more important things for us to deal with.”

“Too late!”

A loud thump was heard from the other side of the front door as Dante tackled Vergil, not even able to make it outside of their new home. The door rattled again and then flew open with Dante being thrown onto the doorstep. 

“Behave yourself,” Vergil admonished, shutting the door behind him and locking it. He could not explain the delight of being able to lock the door; the prospect of privacy made him happy enough to forget about the dust probably coating his lungs. 

Dante stood up and wiped already stained pants, “So, you didn’t answer me when I asked where we were going.”

“The dollar store we passed on the way here.”

Dante laughed, “Easy target.”

Vergil watched Dante lazily stretch as if he was readying himself for a track run. He flicked his twin’s hair to get his attention and to hopefully signal to stop playing around. Dante suddenly jogged in front of him, daring Vergil to race him. 

“I’m not racing you.” Despite this, Vergil picked up his walking speed.

“Why? ‘Cause you know you’re gonna lose?”

“I’m not going to draw attention to us.”

Dante continued his brisk jog but turned so his twin could see his mocking expression and hand movements, “ _People will see us, Dante, people will say something, Dante_! That’s a lot of excuses, dumbass. No one is even around.”

Vergil growled and sped up into a full blown sprint— Dante yelped in surprise as Vergil honed in on him. Once Vergil was in grasping distance, Dante snickered, enjoying the thrill of it all. 

In no time they reached their destination. Dante skidded to a halt, whereas Vergil slowed down much earlier. His exasperation faded, and he instead focused on the task at hand. 

They stood off to the side, out of view of the store’s glass doors. 

Vergil spoke in a low tone, “You remember the routine?”

“Of course.”

They both tucked their amulets into their shirts, the opposing chain colors a liability. Their black clothes weren’t entirely similar, but it was passable enough. They purposely wore plain, identical clothes for situations like this, as well as to avoid unwarranted attention.

“Good. You know what to get?”

“Anything that can be used to clean and will also fit under my clothes?”

Vergil opened his mouth to correct him, but decided he was right. “Anyway, we do the same as always, but I don’t have enough pocket space for everything, so count down a minute and then give me a signal so we can switch.”

“I’ll steal some snacks too.”

“Don’t push it, we will be going elsewhere for food after we can settle in. I have a few places in mind already.”

Dante nodded, in uncharacteristically deep thought. After a beat, he asked, “You still have coins from that fountain?”

“Yes I do,” Vergil shook his pants pocket, the content tinkling, “Maybe two, why? It’s not enough for anything.”

Dante shook his head, “It doesn’t have to be, trust me.”

A silent discussion occurred between them as they stared at each other and Vergil dissected his twin’s plans in his head. Vergil nodded, seemingly in complete understanding of his twin’s thoughts.

“I’m counting on you,” Vergil said, brushing his hair down with his hands. 

His twin flashed him a smile and then the second he entered the establishment, his smile was replaced with a neutral frown. The main counter was close to the front, in a corner perpendicular to the rest of the store. The cashier, a man in his 20’s, sat on a short stool, leaning against the counter and flipping through a magazine. An indistinguishable genre of music played on a stereo next to the young man. Dante took a second to observe for any other patrons, and was relieved to find the store empty.

“Hey mister,” Dante called, voice wavering and puppy eyes flitting about the quiet store. “I have a question.”

The cashier gave a vaguely friendly smile when he spotted Dante, “What is it?” He then tilted his body to look around Dante, “Wait, where’s your mom? Or dad?”

“Well, my mom sent me here to pick up something, but I don’t really know what I’m looking for.”

The young man bit his lip, not wanting to deal with the kid. In response, Dante wobbled, “It’ll be quick, I promise! It’s dark out and I want to get home as soon as possible. My mom is alone right now.”

The cashier sighed. He softened his attitude and leaned on the counter, “What did she tell you she needed?”

“She said she needed a toilet plunger. Some specific one with some kind of brush. . .”

As the two conversed, Vergil silently slid through a tiny opening in the doors and ducked behind a stand of chips. Dante walked around to the other side of the counter, keeping the cashier’s eyes away from Vergil’s side of the store. 

Vergil smirked to himself and snuck down an aisle, searching for cleaning supplies. To his relief, he found them at the back of the store. He stuffed sponges, wash rags, and thin soaps into his pockets. He thanked not only the baggy pockets of their ragged clothes, but also his superhuman senses as he filtered the store’s various noises for any threats. His internal clock timed a minute and right on cue, he heard Dante.

“Thank you, I’ll look there. You said it was in the back, right?”

“Yeah, uh, you need me to help you look?”

“No no, it’s okay. I can do it!”

Vergil waited at the back of an aisle with the described toilet plunger in hand, and felt Dante tap his shoulder. He waited a few seconds, checked the items were securely hidden, and then made his way to the front— forcing his expression into a curious, nervous child. 

“Hey, I think this is it?”

The cashier turned back, “Oh is it? Is that what she wanted?” His earlier cordiality started to wear thin, “I can go ahead and check you out.”

Vergil twiddled his fingers as the cashier took the item from him and rang it up. ‘$3.09’ beeped in red on a black screen above the register. 

Vergil made a show of checking his pockets, jingling here and there as he gathered change. The cashier furrowed his eyebrows, and then made a face as Vergil placed two quarters on the counter. 

“Um, you know how to count right?”

Searing heat colored his cheeks and a darker energy flickered in his bones. Vergil swallowed a nasty remark (and his desire to attack) and passed the hard gulp as a sign of anxiety instead, “No mister, I can, but this is all my mom gave me.”

A plethora of expressions flashed across the young man’s face. To Vergil’s relief, he settled on a look of defeat and loudly sighed, “Take it then. I can pay the rest.”

Vergil faltered with his high-pitched acting, avid on leaving the situation as soon as possible, “Oh thank you so much! You’ve been a great help!”

The cashier bagged the plunger, “Yeah, yeah, just tell your mom to give you enough next time, eh?” 

“Of course, I’ll be sure to tell her. Good evening to you!”. Vergil grabbed the bag and hid his excitement. 

The cashier said nothing, and turned back on his stool to finish reading a magazine. Vergil spotted Dante hiding next to the door, and tipped his head. Sure that the cashier was preoccupied, they both walked out— clothes filled with the rewards of a successful heist. 

“ _Jackpot_ ,” they whispered in unison. 

⚔⚔

All things considered, Vergil thought they were doing pretty well. Their pilferage was more successful than he thought, for Dante managed to stuff more than just a bottle of cleaner; he had snack bags, bottles of soda, breakfast bars, and unsurprisingly, little packages of candy hidden under his waistband. As annoying and childish he was, Dante was good at what he did and Vergil couldn’t deny that. 

It took days to clean the abandoned townhouse, but their efforts proved worthy when they could breathe in without inciting a wracking coughing fit. There was no running water or electricity, as he had expected, but that could be remedied by buckets of water and candles. Dante did complain about said bucket, having preferred bathing in the town fountains; Vergil didn’t see how, thinking the latter was infinitely more humiliating. 

Once they had settled in, tranquility washed over them— a first since their life as orphans. It wasn’t much, Hell, it was the bare minimum, but they took what they could get. They could indulge in the simple things again; for Vergil, that included sitting by the window and writing, whereas Dante pestered his twin into fighting him every ten minutes. And luckily for Dante, no one was around to hear them, or disturb them, so his twin usually obliged.

The tranquility didn’t last long though, for they realized their one outfit wasn’t going to cut it for the upcoming change in weather. Not only that, their meager amount of snacks were diminishing by the day. While they were able to survive without sustenance longer than a normal human, Dante’s incessant complaining was grating his older brother’s nerves. To Vergil’s dismay, Dante suggested robbing people for cash. Thievery might have been their saving grace, Vergil wanted to play it safe. Each time they stole, whether expensive or low value items, Vergil believed it was best to lay low. They had chalk white hair, piercing blue eyes and dirty clothes— there was only so much they could hide. 

It was a game of push and pull. They put themselves in harm’s way every time they stole and every time they made contact with humans. Dante didn’t always listen to Vergil, despite knowing better. Their penurious situation coupled with the inability to exert himself made him stir-crazy. 

Shortly after Vergil insisted they wait a few days before making another hit, he found Dante shivering on the cold hardwood flooring of their makeshift home; his hot, inhuman blood doing little to preserve body heat. Laying low be damned, he wasn’t going to allow his twin to freeze to death. He picked his brother up off the floor, and set off for another gig. 

⚔⚔

Easy knock-outs and a quick trip to a department store and grocery later, they sat bundled up in slightly too large hoodies, puffy coats and jeans, as well as cheap fleece blankets forming a fort around them. With the twin’s black attire and snowy hair to their shoulders, it was nigh impossible to tell them apart— the one differentiating feature was their respective red and blue sneakers. 

Empty wrappers and chip bags surrounded Dante like the jewels of a king, whereas Vergil had a single apple core sitting next to him. 

Dante stared up at the ceiling, mindlessly toying with a bouncy ball. Vergil stared out in front of him, blue eyes peeking out from under his hood. Neither said a word for quite some time.

Eventually, Dante broke the silence, “I’m bored.”

Vergil didn’t reply. 

“I know you said we should wait before hitting again, but this is boring. There’s nothing to do here. At least stealing is fun.”

“We’re homeless, Dante, it’s not like this is a vacation home.”

Dante made an irritated sound in the back of his throat. 

Silence. 

“Y’know, there’s an arcade here in the city, Vergil. We’ve never been to one before.”

Vergil didn’t spare him a glance, “And we won’t be going to one for a while. Too many people there.”

His twin gritted his teeth, “Whatever.”

Dante bounced the ball harder, and then threw the ball directly at Vergil’s face. Vergil caught it in time, the rubber ball mere centimeters from hitting him square in the forehead. Vergil threw it back and Dante dodged in time, the ball then ricocheting off of furniture. 

Dante picked the ball up once it skittered across the floor, “You’re pissing me off.”

“I fail to see how.”

“You just sit there and stare all day! You won’t spar with me!”

Vergil sneered, “Do you not remember losing yesterday in our fist fight, or did I hit your head too hard?”

“I meant with the Rebellion and the Yamato!”

“And risk tearing this place apart? No.”

Dante motioned to the door, “Then let’s go outside!”

“If we do that, demons will sense us. You know what happened last time. Whoever sent the demons after us that day, still want our heads on a stick. Besides, it’s not just us they target.”

“I can’t stand this waiting game we keep playing! We can’t do anything!”

Vergil looked down, eyes downtrodden, “I know Dante, I know. You’re not the only one affected. We have to play it safe though. We’ve barely managed on our own this far, and we have been relying on pure luck. It will eventually run out.”

“You’re too negative, Vergil.”

“I’m not, I’m being realistic.”

“Yeah right,” Dante scoffed, “You’re being a wuss, is what you are. Afraid of this, afraid of that.”

“Excuse me?” Vergil slipped off his hood. 

“Yeah, you’re a wuss! A crybaby! Like always. Crying ‘cause Mom scolded you, crying ‘cause you broke something of Dad’s, it was always you who was throwing a fit!” 

Dante continued, “You were the one who threw a fit that day too, and I had to get your crybaby ass!” 

Dante waited for the Yamato to stab him, instead Vergil’s icy eyes speared into him, one word being hissed with restrained fury, “Leave.”

“What?” Dante replied softly. 

“I said leave. Get away from me. I don’t even want to look at you.”

The betrayal etched on his face and glassiness in Dante’s eyes made Vergil immediately regret saying it. His twin threw the bouncy ball aimlessly and stormed out of the townhome. Through all of it, Vergil did and said nothing. The door slammed, and silence settled once more. 

His twin sighed, pushing back his hair. Deep inside, he knew Dante was right. He couldn’t keep up this protective hen trope any longer, and he knew he was holding his brother back. 

Vergil would have thought the incident would have brought them closer, and it did, yet in moments like these he found himself losing his temper and his vocabulary. There are days where he truly cannot stand Dante and wishes he would disappear, sometimes for no reason at all— and then there are days where he finds his place in the world empty and meaningless if he’s not next to his twin.

His mind reeled to a place he didn't want it to, and in response, he felt for the red amulet hung around his neck. 

His mother was excellent at gently placating them; his father, not so much, but his brutal honesty did the trick. They both wanted what was best for their sons, and Vergil couldn’t help but wonder if what he was doing was best for him and Dante. 

The harmonious voice of his mother suddenly echoed in his ears.

_‘You’re doing the best you can, Vergil. You’ve done so much for Dante, and yourself. You’ve been an excellent big brother.’_

Vergil murmured, “He hates me.”

_‘Oh sweetie, Dante loves you more than anything else! You two are going through a rough time right now, and emotions are running high. You had a small fight. That doesn’t change you two being brothers.’_

“Mom,” he brought his knees up to his chest, “I wish you were here.”

He strained his ears for a sign of her sweet voice. She didn’t answer. 

“You would tell me to go after him, wouldn’t you? Just like you told Dante to come get me, that fateful day. . . if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be together right now, would we?”

No answer. The makeshift home never felt quieter. 

“I should fix this, shouldn’t I?” he asked the void. He sighed. The ghost of his trauma never did linger for long. 

He adjusted his hoodie and followed after his brother.

⚔⚔

Dante kicked a rock up and swung the Rebellion at it like a baseball bat. The rock shattered a glass window in the warehouse next to him. 

“Hehe, jackpot,” he said to himself. The joy didn’t last long, and his mood soured immediately. He thought back to Vergi and the cruel words slung at him. . 

The Rebellion was rammed into the side of a rusted car, and then used to shatter the windshield. Dante stabbed and sliced the car until it was akin to a pile of parts. 

“Stupid Vergil! Stupid house, and, and— being homeless! And not having money! And stupid fucking demons!”

A blood curdling scream halted Dante’s sword in mid air. He stayed in his frozen position for some seconds, and stayed quiet. A crash came next, and Dante hunkered down, crawling over to hide behind a container unit. He sniffed the air riddled with tobacco, and found a tinge of iron. 

Another yell echoed through the premises, and Dante traced the sound. He winded through junk, storage units, and garbage, finding evidence of blood. After 30 feet or so, he came to a car, a much nicer and newer model, splattered with blood and the windows broken. A wide paint brush swipe of blood trailed from the car to around a storage container. 

A sound akin to velcro ripping snapped his attention and he peered around the container. 

Tall, goblin-like creatures were hunched over the gorey remains of a young man and woman. A fat demon chomped on the decolletage of the girl, her head barely attached to her body by strings of tissue. The babies of the creatures reached and begged for the remains of said girl. As if knowing her fate, her expression was permanently fixed into one of horror, and her dead eyes seemed to beg Dante for help in the afterlife. 

Another demon showed up, carrying the bisected upper body of a man and plopped him onto the dirt. The runts that were reaching for the girl’s head scurried to the new corpse and hungrily feasted on the man’s hanging intestines. An adult goblin started to fight the fatter one over the girl, and her body stretched as they pulled at each end of her.

Dante felt something inside of him snap; a rope in his consciousness fraying and ripping as a deep voice within his soul called for vengeance. Red colored his vision, and in a blur of black the demon chewing on the girl’s collarbones was swiftly decapitated. The remaining monsters screamed and scattered, their heads on a swivel for their assailant. He was out of sight, gone like the wind.

In a second, another was beheaded. The runts huddled together and clutched their necks out of fear. The biggest of the bunch, a grossly yellowed goblin, raised to its full height and challenged Dante. 

“I can smell you, you putrid half breed!” It roared, “Come on out and face us!”

“What is he? A half breed!?” 

The leader snarled, gore and spit dripping down its jaws, “I saw him! That white hair! I know what you are, coward! Face me, so I can drink the blood of your cursed father!”

Dante stepped out from behind a container unit, pupils in thin slits and the brackish blood of the imps smeared across his cheek. The comically large Rebellion rested on his shoulder.

He grinned, fangs rivaling that of the runts’ own, “You asked for me, and here I am! How about I put on a show?”

He pointed the tip of Rebellion at the group of runts, “You’re up first!”

They screamed again, and tried to take off with their tiny wings. The leader guarded them while the other adult sized goblins ran at Dante. Dante took a detour, and jumped on the heads of the goblins, propelling him upwards to slice a few runts in half. 

He grabbed the leg of one flying, and it faltered, falling to the ground due to his weight. Dante then smashed the runt into the dirt until its upper body was a bloody mess and he threw it at a goblin heading right for him. The tiny goblins disintegrated into dust.

“Who’s up next?! You?” Dante parried a fist from the leader of the pack. It vanished in smoke, leaving a whiff of a sick odor. Yellow blotched in his periphery and Dante ducked. Claws whizzed above him. 

Dante rolled across the ground as a heap of junk was smashed in a fit of rage. A gangly demon gripped the back of his hoodie and tossed him into the side of a container unit, his body denting the metal. The other demons then surrounded him before he could pick himself back up. 

He stood up slowly, feeling the torn skin on his back stitch back together. Rebellion was angled up and Dante shifted his weight into a defensive position. 

“That sword looks a bit too big for ya,” one mocked. “Careful not to slice your own head off, little boy!”

Another hissed, “What a joke. Look at this scrawny thing— couldn’t even use him to pick my teeth.”

They fired a barrage of insults. The leader approached with the arrogance of a demon king, keeping its beady eyes on Dante. 

Nonetheless, Dante cocked a smile, his gaze fixed elsewhere, “Look at you uglies ganging up on us. Five against two doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“It is plenty fair. We have- wait, two? Ha! Did you hit your head too hard, little boy?”

The leader’s cackling turned into wet gurgling when a slim blade was thrust through its mouth. Just as speedily, the blade was ripped out of its skull. The leader crumbled to dust, and the others once again screamed. 

Their cowardly nature gave away to pure survival instinct, and the last of them bared their claws at the new assailant. 

Vergil kicked the crumbling corpse down, and ignored the demons foaming at the mouth, “You really can’t even handle this much alone? Pathetic, Dante.”

Dante lowered Rebellion, his smirk still present, “This is what happens when you won’t spar with me.”

“Tch. You should have muscle memory regardless.”

“Maybe so. Then again, if I killed them all then you would bitch about not getting any action.”

“As if you knew I would come in the first place,” Vergil batted away a goblin’s assault without looking. 

Dante side stepped another assault as took his place next to Vergil, “I did know, and oh look, here you are. You can’t be away from me for long. I mean, you really have an obsession with me, Vergil.”

Vergil shook his head at the nonsense, “You’re a narcissist.”

“Says the guy who takes half an hour in the mirror to make sure his hair is perfect.”

The goblins roared and attacked from all sides— their wrath boosting their powers. Their hulking weight inhibited their speed, but what they lacked in stealth they made up for in brute strength. The goblin-like demons pummeled every surface in the area as the twins dodged their claws. Their flailing bodies were proving to be a hindrance as they used their wings and weak teleportation skills to corner the twins. A wing slapped Dante and a tail whipped Vergil. 

Vergil bared his teeth at the laughing demon who whipped his face, “I have had enough dealing with these disgusting degenerates!”

Yamato sang with bloodthirst, the blade whistling in the air as it sliced through the torso of a demon. Another he bisected down the middle, its organs spilling out as the two halves crumbled to the ground. 

Dante pierced two demons in a row, their twitching bodies skewered like a kebab. Soon, their remains decayed and no traces of the fight were left on the Rebellion. 

The Yamato crackled in blue and was absorbed through Vergil’s palm. He huffed, “We do need to spar more.”

“Or just find more demons to kill. Hunt them down before they hunt us.”

“That, too.” Vergil tsked, “If father could see us now, he would raise Hell for our poor performance.”

“He was also a perfectionist, nothing we did was right,” Dante replied. “What does his opinion matter now, anyway?”

“I was just. . . thinking about them, is all.”

When Dante stared at him, Vergil flushed pink, “You’re right, it doesn’t matter anyway, okay? We just need to do better. That’s the point I was trying to make.”

Saving his twin from further embarrassment, Dante patted him on the back, “I’m hungry, you?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Cool. Let’s go finish off those Munch bars.”

“They’re disgusting.”

“How about honey chips?”

“No.”

“Donuts? Fine, you want a granola bar? There’s one left, I think.”

“. . . . Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didnt think I would be writing a scene about half-demon twins stealing cleaning supplies yet. . . here we are. it was so out of left field that I almost didn't include it but I kinda liked it lol seemed like smth Vergil would do
> 
> should probably mention that this story is going to have a ton of HC's and references from the novels, anime, and VoV. next chapter is going to have a character from the anime show up, as seen by the character tag, and it will be pretty interesting!
> 
> until next time!


	3. antisocial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins gain some help and a new friend.

Time, Dante and Vergil have discovered, was merely a concept. Were it not for the rising and setting of the sun and the moon, they would not even know days were passing at all. It seemed, at times, that one day felt like three whereas other times a day seemed to pass within the blink of an eye. 

Each day was much like the last: wake up at the first beams of light, eat breakfast (a fruit for Vergil and a pastry for Dante), do “chores” (a quick dusting of the living room), a free period which ended in the twins brawling inside or outside, dinner, then lastly, back to the upstairs bedroom. 

Any nuance in their schedule was usually the twins sparring at the old warehouse; after the feasting, they had disrupted, they decided to hone their skills. Still, Vergil was cautious and believed they should only go sporadically, rather than every day like Dante had wanted. Dante accepted his rule, and Vergil found these precious getaways to be good bargaining chips, while also helping calm Dante’s overly exuberant nature. 

Dante continued to bounce that “godforsaken” super ball in every square inch of the townhome for fun, much to Vergil’s chagrin. 

Any other outside endeavors had to be furtive, for reasons beside demons. Their new rivals became humans in blue uniforms. Shortly after the twins had robbed citizens for cash, police had been on the lookout for suspicious individuals. Luckily for them, the twins did not allow their victims to catch a glimpse of them during the assaults. 

Cops being on the lookout stayed the twins’ sticky fingers— leading to their stack of cash slowly depleting with no way of replenishing it any time soon. 

Their new predicament forced them to bargain in a sketchy marketplace for cheap items and foods. The marketplace sat near the harbor and a suspension bridge that connected Enamel City and Morris Island. Its tucked away location shielded the twins from wandering eyes, as the patrons of the area were just as paranoid and preferred to keep to themselves. 

So, it had come as a surprise when a woman in a tattered sweatshirt and stained jeans took Dante aside, eyes darting to and fro. She whispered to him about a mom-and-pop grocery a couple of blocks down the edge of town. They supposedly handed out free samples of freshly baked bread and cured deli meats. When Dante questioned her thoughtful behavior, she rolled her eyes and told him to be grateful. 

Dante had overheard his twin haggling the price of a carton of berries, and he realized it might be okay to take a stranger’s advice. 

That next morning, they snuck through cobblestone alleyways and lone sidewalks like cats on the hunt. They had a vague idea as to where the grocery was located, but as always, they erred on the side of caution and stayed alert while traversing the streets. 

The dreary weather kept most of the citizens inside, much to their relief. Dante took the opportunity to stomp in some puddles. Lukewarm water licked Vergil’s calves, and he whipped around, “Dante, stop doing that.”

“No one’s around, I can play a little bit.”

“You’re soaking your shoes!”

Dante continued to disturb every puddle on the way, “They’re ruined anyway, Vergil. There’s blood all over them.” 

The comment stung him more than it should. He sighed distastefully and picked up his pace. He didn’t want to be out in the open any longer than necessary. Dante’s interest in the puddles left as quickly as it had appeared, and he chased after his twin. 

As promised by that lady, they found the lone grocery parallel to the water’s edge. The hole-in-the-wall store had a handwritten cursive sign swinging on a beam. 

_Broomfield Deli & Bakery_

The warmth of the store’s heating system radiated to the brisk outside air. Vergil mouthed the name and then asked, “Are you sure about this?”

“Totally. That woman said they have food for free!”

Vergil crossed his arms, “Nothing is ever truly free, Dante, someone always wants something in return.”

Dante fought back rolling his eyes, “Will you just go along with it?”

“I will,” Vergil gave in faster than Dante thought, a smirk on his face, “If this doesn’t end up as a trap, I will give you credit.”

Dante returned the smile and brushed past the door, eager for food. The hanging doorbell rang and a portly, genial man peered over the tall deli counter. 

“Heya, boys!” He leaned on the glass, “It’s a bit nippy out there this mornin’, isn’t it?”

Dante answered with a casual wave, “Nothing we can’t handle, gramps. Whatcha got there?” His mouth watered at the sight of the various seasoned and glazed meats. He caught the tiny sticker on the glass citing free samples and he broke out into a grin. Vergil gave a raise of his eyebrows when Dante pointed it out to him. 

“I think the bakery back there is the same, go see if it is,” Dante said privately. 

As the man rambled to Dante about honey, ciders and brown sugar, Vergil checked out the rest of the store. Another handmade sign pointed to the bakery; to his dismay, he spotted a mother and her young son standing over by the counter. He tugged his hood a little further down.

The secondary owner, an equally affable woman behind the bakery, spotted him, “Hello there, sweetie! Is there anything in particular you’re lookin’ for?”

The mother and son turned their heads, and he minutely flinched at their strong gaze. A judgemental gaze too, he knew better than anyone else, and he despised it. 

Silence drawled on longer than he would have liked. He cleared his throat, “What do you have?”

The baker forced the awkward tension to dissipate when she beamed brighter, “Well, we have all kinds of goodies! Regular loaves here, some with nuts baked into them, and over here is sweetened bread, and more. We have a little bit of everything!”

Vergil surveyed the display case, “What kind of sweetened bread?”

“This one,” she pointed over the glass to a reddish tinted, large bun, “is spiced with cinnamon and sugar, and we have one here that isn’t spiced but is a bit more cake-like. Very spongy, think angel cake!”

“Cake-like, huh? I’ll take a sample of that, please.”

To his surprise, the woman took out two of the sweetened buns and wrapped them in a brown sheet. She gently dropped the hefty bread bundle into his hands. “You won’t be able to tell you like it if your sample isn’t big enough, right?”

The softness in her words struck a chord in Vergil. The weight of the bread in his arms solidified her good deed, and he whispered his thanks. She nodded and tended to the mother standing off to the side. 

The back of Vergil’s neck tingled— Vergil turned his head and made eye contact with the son, a lean brunette close to his age. Retreating wasn’t an option as the son suddenly walked up to Vergil, maintaining his stare. 

“What are you looking at?” Vergil said with menace. 

The boy stayed unperturbed, almost innocently so, “I haven’t seen you before. Do you go to a school around here?”

“No.”

“Oh. I like your hoodie!”

Vergil’s mind blanked at the compliment. Dante saved the increasingly awkward encounter by lightly slapping the back of Vergil’s head with a cold plastic wrap of deli meat. He turned around to see a plentiful “sample” in his twin’s hands as well. 

“Hey, check out what the old man gave me! This one has a lot of pepper, which I know you like. And this one-”

“You guys are twins!” the boy exclaimed. 

Dante dropped his cheeriness, “Yeah, what of it?”

“That’s so cool! You look totally the same!” Dante and Vergil exchanged a look as the boy gushed, “There are these girls in my neighbourhood who are twins, but they don’t look identical. I think it’s called paternal twins or something.”

Dante interrupted the boy’s yacking, “What’s your name?”

The boy’s face lit up as if his favorite celebrity was asking for a personalized autograph, “Ernest! And yours?”

“I’m Antonio,” Dante replied with lightning speed, “But you can call me Tony.”

Vergil furrowed his eyebrows. He received a scheming look from Dante, the mischievousness lost on the naive Ernest. Vergil cleared his throat, “I-I’m, um, Angelo.”

Dante scrunched up his face and was biting back a giggle. Vergil sent him a scathing glare, also lost on little Ernest. 

“Well, you guys look cool, wanna be friends?”

Dante opened his mouth but Vergil beat him to the punch; not allowing him to pull some other stunt, “We live. . . far out of town, so I doubt we can hang out.”

Ernest’s disappointment at the rejection wasn’t subtle, “That’s okay! I could, uh, always see you around then, I guess.”

The twins were bothered by the exchange and their attention span drifted to the surrounding items in the store or the food in their hands. To their utter relief, the mother called for her son, ready to go with an armful of bakery goods in a bag.

“I gotta go. See you later!” Ernest said with a smile.

Vergil pulled Dante aside as Ernest ran back to his mother, “What was that?”

“What? I could ask you the same thing. You’re so awkward.”

His twin shook his head, “Not that, the names! What made you even think of that?”

“Why wouldn’t we change our names? You’re the one so focused on laying low, so why does it bother you?”

Vergil lost any retort for he knew his brother was right. “Whatever. Why did you pick Antonio?”

Dante snickered, “Why did you pick Angelo?”

“It’s from a book, okay.”

“Cool, I got mine from the newspaper stand. This guy writes stuff about ghosts and demons in there, and his name was Antonio. ‘Thought it sounded nice.”

“Wow, you actually read in your free time— color me surprised, Antonio,” Vergil mocked. 

Dante countered with a brush of his hair, “I have a lot of interests, Angelo, you just think you’re better than me.”

“And I am.”

“In your fucking dreams, Vergil.”

“First of all, don’t curse at me, and secondly, it’s Angelo. You can’t even work with your own plan, how stupid.”

Dante jabbed his finger at Vergil’s chest, “You’re stupid!”

Vergil smacked his brother’s hand away from him, “Nice comeback.”

In the middle of the store, the twins started a shoving fight, nearly knocking over a stand of candies. The ruckus incited the husband to ask what’s going on and if the boys are okay, oblivious to the brothers’ violent spat. 

With a grunting Vergil in a headlock, Dante shouted back, “We’re good! My bro just saw a spider, that’s all, haha!”

His eyes suddenly landed on a packet of gummy strawberries— the light of Heaven descended upon that little bag with bells chiming and angels singing. Dante dropped Vergil and snatched the candy off the stand. 

“What is this,” he whispered. “Tastes just like strawberry ice-cream, oh my god Vergil, do you see this!?”

Vergil swiped the bag out of his brother’s hands, “No. We have food.” He held up the bread and the meat to prove his point. 

“You’re boring, you know that?”

Vergil shrugged, “Someone has to be. Without me, you wouldn’t have been able to make it this far with your obnoxious behavior.”

Dante mocked Vergil’s expression and voice as they exited the store. The second they made it outside, Vergil tugged his brother’s hood over his head, tied the drawstrings tightly together, and left him behind.

⚔⚔

A couple of times a week they returned to Broomfield’s. The owners must have known about the twins’ plight, for they always received gracious samples with no questions asked. The last time they visited, they were even handed a couple blankets to keep them warm for their trek home. The twins had a feeling this wasn’t the first time they have dealt with the less fortunate. 

Though relying on the good nature of strangers made the twins wary, they weren’t going to turn down free stuff. They had enough to worry about as it was. 

One of such things was the inhuman blood coursing through their veins. It progressively became a topic of interest for them— and it begged more questions of their ancestry. The twins deduced their mother was a human, if her saintliness were anything to go by, and if anyone was a demon, it had to have been their father. His libraries were bursting with magical texts, and he had a cold demeanor coupled with equally cold eyes. The twins felt rather stupid when they finally added two and two together: white hair and light blue eyes, just like their father. 

But, that didn’t help them in coming to terms with their bloodline. Their father was not alive, and could not answer their questions. They had inhuman blood running through them, with no way of training it. 

When it came down to semantics, they found it easier to define their demonic blood as a separate entity living inside them. When intrusive thoughts riddled their brains, they could blame a part of them they failed to understand. A voice deep from within their rib cages yearned for violence or thirsted for food that was not candies or bread, but fleshy and crimson. Something forbidden. 

Their heirloom (also given by their father, and that revelation confused them even more) weapons were noisier than ever. Instead of soothing the trill of their hellish blood, Rebellion and Yamato sent electricity through their bones and skulls. Their presence ached the twins and was a constant reminder of their ethereal existence. 

The mundane routine of living as orphans created a facade, a safe one that let them believe they were normal. Demons didn’t wash clothes in the tub, they didn't steal hygiene products, they didn't split chunks of bread for dinner. Humans did; they survived, they lived a life based on finding comfort and happiness. 

Yet, no matter what the brothers did, they could not find comfort or happiness. Comfort was never around for long when one was homeless, and happiness was just as short-lived. Once the food was gone, the thrill of a fight had left their bodies, and the silence of a broken home settled in, they were brought back to reality. 

It was never enough. The smoke and mirrors faded, and they were left with emptiness. Emptiness created an environment perfect for overthinking and regrets, which the twins found to be the most bothersome. 

A barebone dinner and quiet evening made for one of those moments. 

Dante had scarfed down his makeshift sandwich and laid on the floor with his legs kicked up against the wall. He bounced his ball up to the ceiling while Vergil finished the last of his own meal next to a few lit candles. 

Vergil dusted crumbs off his pants, “We should get butter next time we go out.”

“Yeah, we should. We should also go to our spot tomorrow.”

“That too.”

Dante bent his head back from his upside-down position, “Do you think we’re making progress? Honestly.”

“Yes. It’s not as fast as I would like it to be, but we are. We don’t have a mentor nor anyone with infernal knowledge— all things considered, we’re making progress.”

His twin’s focus switched to his superball, “I still can’t fully summon it.”

“Neither I.”

The superball then unceremoniously hit a rickety window and cracked it, both twins uncaring. 

“I’m hoping other demons show up when we go. When I saw those people being eaten, I actually came close to doing it.”

Vergil picked invisible lint off his jeans, “I hope so too. I find it odd that none have really shown up since we have been going. Those goblin things did, for a short time anyway.”

“We probably killed the last of them,” Dante smirked. 

His twin snorted, “Doubtful.”

“How many like, species of demons do you think there are?”

Vergil pondered the inquiry as if he had any kind of answer. He gave up, “I have no idea. So far we’ve encountered at least a couple types. Who knows how many are out there.”

“Do you think there are demons the size of buildings? And ones that are the size of a puppy?”

“I’m guessing there are.”

“You think there are ones who look like dragons? Or insects? Or demons who disguise themselves as humans?”

“Aren’t we disguising ourselves as humans?”

“Not really.” Dante laughed, “I wonder if there are sexy demons, like those succubus or whatever they’re called.”

Vergil inhaled sharply and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Hey, I wonder what we would look like. . Do you think we could shapeshift?” Dante suddenly sat up with excitement, “What did I look like _that_ day?”

Vergil snapped, “Dante, shut up! Please.”

He did as he was told, but glared as he laid back down. “Whatever.” Dante’s superball bumped the ceiling, came back down to nearly hit him in the eye, and then skidded across the floor. 

"Idiot," Vergil whispered. 

Dante stuck his tongue out as he leaned on his elbows. "By the way, what did you think about that kid at the store?"

"You're asking a lot of questions tonight."

"Just answer it."

"He seemed naive, too curious for his own good. Why?"

"Do you think. . . if we didn't end up as orphans, we would have had people like him over? Playing on the swings, swimming in the lake, stuff like that."

Vergil blew out the candles. "No. We barely interacted with anyone outside of our estate. Our parents socialized out of courtesy, not to make friends."

"I guess that's true. Now that I think about it, your only friend was an old man."

"Your only friend was and still is me, and I'm your twin brother. I think you're the most pathetic one here, Dante."

"I hate you," Dante said with very little malice. 

Vergil responded with a twinkle in his eyes, "I hate you too. Are you ready to go upstairs?"

Dante nodded, and they carefully made their way up the battered stairs for a hopefully restful sleep. 

⚔⚔

Dante made a beeline for the candy section. Vergil hissed his name, knowing exactly where was heading. 

“I deserve them!” he hissed back. 

Vergil rolled his eyes and went the opposite direction to the deli counter, “Just make sure you get what we need from the bakery.”

The pink and white packaging came into view, and Dante couldn’t stop from grinning. Considering they were 50 cents a pop, Dante slid a whole line of stock off the stand. He sighed happily at the overflowing bundle in his arms. 

“Tony!” Someone tapped his shoulder, causing Dante to reflexively spin on his heel and he glared at the perpetrator. 

Ernest gasped at his abrupt movement and the sound of a few bags of candy hitting the floor, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Dante feigned a smile, “Heh, it’s fine. Didn’t scare me.” He dropped the smile, “Don’t do that again, though.”

“Um, I won’t. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

Dante gestured to the bags in his hands. 

“Oh. You like those?”

Ernest didn’t get an immediate reply from Dante, instead, the conversation took a nosedive into awkward territory. “I guess you like sweet things! Haha.”

“Yeah.” Realizing Ernest was desperately wanting interaction, Dante threw him a bone, “What are you doing here?”

The boy’s mood brightened, “My mom takes me here to get my favorite treats when I do good on my school work.”

“Cool, cool. What do you get?”

“It’s raisin cookies with cream-”

Dante felt himself wanting to gag, “Raisin!? Of all the cookies in the world and you get raisin!?”

Ernest pursed his lips, “They’re actually really yummy. The bakeries in our town aren’t that good. . Well, their raisin cookies aren’t.”

“Your town? Where do you live?”

“Morris Island, across the water from here.”

Dante hummed in response. Honestly, he couldn’t get past the boy’s love for raisin cookies. His face still held a disgusted expression as he picked up his dropped candy. Ernest fidgeted, glancing between ‘Antonio’ and his mother, her head visible above the aisles on the other side of the store. 

“Um,” he started, “Do you like games?”

Dante flicked his head up, “Games? What kind?”

“Video games! My mom bought me this new game for my Atari, and you get to shoot aliens with lasers!”

For the second time, Dante was speechless. Ernest blabbered on about the game, half of it Dante listened to. 

“. . . I used to play it in an arcade, and now I have it at home! It’s so cool!”

“Arcade?” Dante repeated. 

“Yeah! So, I wanted to ask you, w-would—would you and Angelo want to come over and play? My mom said-”

“Yes!” Dante answered curtly. He turned to check if his brother was nearby or still at the counter conversing with the owner. To his relief he was, and so Dante turned back to Ernest, “Yeah, yeah, that would be cool! What time?”

“Oh, I think 5 pm is okay.”

Dante grinned from ear to ear, “Awesome, just pick us up near the harbor.”

“Is that where you live?”

“Sure, yeah, nearby. Alright thanks, Albert.”

“It’s Ernest.”

“That’s what I said, Ernie! See ya soon!” Dante saluted with two fingers and headed back to his twin. 

Ernest called after him, “My mom drives a brown car!”

At the deli counter, Vergil balanced the wrapped pack of meats he was given and a plate covered with aluminum foil. 

“We tried a new recipe last night for dinner, and we had some leftovers!”

“It’s fine, thanks.” 

Finished with his task, Vergil peered over to the bakery, searching for Dante’s black hoodie and long white hair. When he didn’t see it, he inched closer. Instead, he caught Mrs. Broomfield covering her mouth as she spoke to that one boy’s mother— body language secretive as they looked toward where Vergil was standing. Their eyes met Vergil’s and the mother quickly preoccupied herself while Mrs. Broomfield gave a smile. 

Vergil furrowed his eyebrows, disliking being a topic of gossip. Before he could do anything about it, Dante rushed up to him. 

“Hey, what’s that?” Dante poked the aluminum foil. 

Vergil kept his glare, “It’s leftovers, what’re those two women gossiping about?”

Dante followed his twin’s gaze, “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t go over there?” Vergil then noticed the abundance of candy in Dante’s arms, “Dante, what is all that?”

His brother ignored the questioning, “You think they’re talking about us? Man, you are paranoid.”

“They were looking at me and talking all hush-hush.”

“So what? People talk about us all the time. I’m used to it. I say, let them talk.”

“I’m used to it as well but I don’t like it. The idea of others putting me in a box they conjure from their standards is nauseating.”

Dante sighed, then spoke under his breath, “For someone who does whatever he wants however he wants, you sure care about other people’s opinions.”

“I do not!” Vergil whipped around, “Ugh, it doesn’t matter. Forget the bakery, we can always come back later.”

Dante shrugged his shoulders and went to the counter to pay for his strawberry gummies. 

⚔⚔

Dead leaves littered the streets and crunched under the soles of the twins. A warm glow surrounded the buildings, being backlit by the setting sun. The last rays kept the twins comfortable enough to forgo coats, though the chilly autumn breeze tinted their cheeks pink. Lanterns flickered on as they went, lighting the path to the harbor. The twins reached an awning next to a dock, and Dante gazed upon the bridge crossing the water, a crowd of glittering headlights atop it heading to and fro. 

Dante watched the tiny cars as if he could tell which one was Ernest’s. Vergil chose to check out the surroundings, head on a swivel as he looked for the ‘danger’ Dante talked about. 

“I don’t sense any demons, Dante. I didn’t the whole way here— what are you planning?” Vergil asked. 

“I’m not planning anything.”

“You are. You acted strangely at the market, and you’re acting strange now. You are absolutely planning something.”

Dante just shrugged. A pair of headlights came toward them, and he took a step forward, and then retreated when the car drove past them. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Vergil gritted his teeth, growing impatient by the second. For 10 minutes, Vergil interrogated his twin, grasping for just a piece of the truth. Dante was unruffled, staying as vague as possible. 

Just as another pair of headlights headed their way, Vergil began to walk home. Dante seized his sleeve when the car slowed to a stop in front of them. Seeing the car park, Vergil twisted in his brother’s hold, his anger and anxiety raising. 

“Dante, what the hell have you done!? Who is this?” 

The driver’s seat window rolled down revealing familiar brunette hair and dark eyes. Vergil stood stumped as Ernest then burst out of the backseat, excitedly greeting them. Dante went along with it, smiling and laughing all the while keeping a bruising grip on Vergil’s arm. 

The mother asked how long they had been waiting and if they were cold. Dante’s reply was muffled in Vergil’s ears, the treachery of his brother sinking in. The cold splash of anger was icier than the autumn breeze could hope to be. Dante wrapped his arm around Vergil’s shoulder once he felt the drastic change in temperature emanating from him. 

Ernest cleared the clutter from the backseat while Dante turned to his brother. Vergil’s eyes were unfocused, and Dante slightly shook his shoulders. 

He leaned in to whisper in his ear, “This will be fun, I promise!”

“You lied to me,” Vergil spoke hardly. “You tricked me!”

He finally met his twin’s eyes, “I should strike you right now, for this!”

“They will see it,” Dante replied matter-of-factly. 

“I’ll kill them too.”

“You won’t.”

Vergil said nothing, but his resolute expression made Dante think he just might do it— he hugged him tighter then quickly shoved his brother into the open backseat. The rough behavior elicited a yelp from Ernest, who inched closer to the window to allow room. 

Dante fit himself right on the edge of the backseat and slammed the door, keeping Vergil smushed in. “Sorry, didn’t mean to do that!” Dante apologized, albeit jokingly, before the mother could say anything. 

The mother looked behind her, “My name is Florence, by the way. I’m Ernie’s mother.” Her eyes darted to their sneakers, “Angelo wears blue, and you Antonio, you wear red, correct? That’s what Ernie told me.”

Dante nodded for both of them. 

Florence smiled, “How cute. Otherwise, I might not have been able to tell you two apart!” She giggled, and Dante forced a chuckle. 

Her giggling died down and she noticed Vergil’s hazy stare, “Angelo, are you all right?”

Dante spoke for him, “Oh he’s fine, he just doesn’t care for cars much.”

“Oh. Do you get carsick easily, honey?”

Dante opened his mouth to answer, then paused to see if Vergil would do it instead— when he stayed silent, Dante went ahead, “Yeah a little, but he will be fine.”

Florence hummed and turned in her seat, switching gears. The secluded street then gave way to a busier intersection, and after a right turn, the same glittering headlights blinded the twins as the mother sped onto the bridge. Dante craned his neck to trace the steel beams connecting the bridge and reaching high to the towers. 

A cherry red convertible roared past, and he squashed his face against the window to get a better look at it. Dante pouted when he lost sight of it among the traffic. He nudged Vergil, “Did you see that?”

His twin shook his head, still in a mood. 

“It was fast! I saw a car like that once, but it wasn’t as nice as that one. I bet you would’ve liked it if it wasn’t red.”

“Probably.”

The vibrations of engines sparked a long-repressed memory. A slim, darkened car that had led his family to a grandiose restaurant— tablecloths with embroidered roses, golden chandeliers, wine glasses clinking. He remembered Eva testing his Italian through the foreign menu, and Sparda telling Dante to sit still in his chair. 

Ernest’s own inability to sit still brought Vergil back to the stiff backseat of the sedan. He slumped, taking comfort in his oversized hoodie. 

Florence glanced at the rearview mirror, “Antonio, Angelo, do you like the countryside? Where our house sits on a hill, we have a beautiful view! It overlooks downtown and at night the lights are a sight to see!”

“Yeah, they’re really pretty!” Ernest cut in, “They’re all different colors and are soo bright! When it’s not cloudy, you can also see the stars twinkle!”

Vergil spoke, though his expression seemed as if it pained him to do so, “ We— we used to live in the countryside.”

At his words, Dante rested his head on the side of Vergil’s. Shockingly, Vergil didn’t recoil from the affection. 

Florence glanced at the twins through the rearview mirror, a melancholic look in her eyes. She dialed the volume of the radio, allowing the disc jockeys to fill the silence for her. 

The number of headlights dwindled as they drove onto Morris Island. They passed downtown’s white bricked buildings and were met with autumnal colors as they climbed up into a rural area of the island. Curvy roads took them over hills and around cabins painted in garish colors. The woods surrounding them grew thicker and denser until they reached a clearing containing a smooth driveway.

A mid-sized rustic house came into view. Before the sedan could even be parked, the twins escaped the backseat. Florence gasped, while Ernest struggled with his seatbelt, eager to meet up with the boys. 

Dante and Vergil stared at the two acres of land surrounding them. Vergil analyzed the area; searching the trees, the garden, and the house for supposed threats. His twin bumped past him as Ernest had grabbed Dante’s hand, steering him toward the home. Dante gave Vergil an easy smile and a shrug. 

Vergil sighed. This was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pacing for this chapter felt a little fast, but next chapter will be much slower and focus on the boys' playdate. we get to see the twins deal with a kid their own age for once, how exciting!! we're in some domestic territory for now, but that will change eventually, so enjoy it while it lasts lol
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are appreciated! and i can be reached @glitterghost on twitter if ya ever wanna discuss the DMC novels or the twins (anything about them tbh i love them too much)


	4. aliens and imposters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante and Vergil get the chance to have fun and enjoy their childhood. Also, Vergil has a change of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pretty long, at about 6.6k words! it's chock full of fluff and wholesome-ness so its okay~ 
> 
> i have some thoughts/HC's regarding how Vergil acts in this chapter, specifically in a certain scene, and i will discuss it at the end!
> 
> thanks so much for the lovely comments + support, and i appreciate every kudos/comment!

The first 30 minutes of the “playdate” was a blur. Ernest gave a tour of the house as if he was a realtor, giving details about every nook and cranny that existed. The brothers drowned him out early on, though there were a few interesting tidbits; like the crawl space underneath the stairs. Dante held the most interest in the family room, where the prized home arcade system sat. He stared at it for ages while Ernest droned on

Vergil whispered to Dante if that stupid contraption was the reason he was tricked, and Dante nodded, stars in his eyes. Dante was nearly vibrating with excitement, and Ernest had to tell him to wait until after dinner to play. 

When the twins were shown his bedroom, they tensed up. 

The monochromatic bedroom seemed to lack personality at first. Upon further inspection, they found his favorite toys, coloring books, a cartoon-printed blanket, and the one item that made their heart drop— a framed picture of Ernest, Florence and an unknown man. The picture left a bitter taste in Vergil’s mouth and he promptly left the room. Dante didn’t move, but he responded with little vigor when Ernest showed him another toy. 

As if she sensed the tension, Florence popped up and announced that dinner would be ready soon. She ushered Ernest out of his room and said something about showing off under her breath to him. Since Vergil had already escaped downstairs, only Dante heard Ernest squeak out an apology to her. He didn’t like others walking on eggshells around him, but there wasn’t much he could do. Every “normal” adult seemed to act that way. 

Meanwhile, Vergil seated himself at the wooden kitchen table. With no one around, at least for a minute, he could properly acclimatize to the environment he was forced into. As much as he wanted to feel rage against his twin, the emotion had long fizzled out. All that was left was apprehension. 

Dante would bring up social activities all the time. The arcade, the park, downtown, he even wanted to go back to the department store to window shop— anything to get them out of their ramshackle house. Vergil didn’t know whether Dante actually wanted friends, or if he just needed a break from their introversion. 

Either way, Vergil found he did not care for the way the night was heading. There was no way out of the strangers’ house without causing a ruckus, so that plan was ixnayed. Plus, he did not want to leave Dante all alone with said strangers, kindness be damned. Realizing he was stuck no matter what, he placed his temples in his hands and breathed deeply before dinner would be served. 

Dante came down after him and slapped him on the back as he sat down. “You good?” he asked. 

“Good enough.”

Ernest and Florence appeared last. Ernest, still riding his excitement, rocked in his chair, “My mom made her famous lasagna tonight. Do you guys like lasagna?”

The twins replied simultaneously, “Yes.” 

The boy leaned forward, “She adds a secret ingredient too. She says it’s ‘love’ but I think it's just extra cheese.”

Florence pointed a spatula at him and smiled, “You hush! No spoiling it!”

“Is there extra cheese?” Dante piped up. 

“While yes, I add extra cheese, that’s not the secret!”

Dante put his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’m just happy to eat it. Who cares about the ingredients.”

Florence went quiet for a second before plastering another smile on her face, “O-Of course! If you’re really hungry, I made enough for seconds. Give it a little more time to reheat in the oven, and it will be ready!”

The twins nodded, one visibly more zealous than the other. 

Ernest tore his eyes from the large pans of lasagna and looked straight at Dante, “What are your favorite games to play?”

“Uh, I like ones where you defeat monsters and aliens!” He replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but he didn’t want to admit to having never played one. “It’s fun destroying them.” Vergil flashed him a warning glare. 

Ernest continued, “What else do you guys like to do?”

“Well, we play kickball, and, uh-” Dante realized all he and his twin ever did was fight; both playfully and violently. He couldn’t mention busting his brother’s nose open daily to Ernest, especially the part about them crossing giant swords given to them by their demon father. 

“We wrestle a lot,” Dante realized that probably wasn’t the right thing to say. He saw Florence’s quick look over her shoulder. “Never to actually hurt each other, of course, but we roughhouse. . sometimes.”

Ernest raised his eyebrows, “Oh. I’m not a fan of that kind of stuff, but it sounds fun, I guess. Okay, do you guys ever watch TV?”

“No, we don’t.” Dante was starting to regret his decision to socialize with a kid his age. The boy’s curiosity wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, and he checked there were about five minutes left on the kitchen timer.

Ernest’s raised eyebrows were fixed. “Okay. Do you guys like to read, then?”

Dante pointed to his twin the same time Vergil perked up, “Yes, I do.”

His eyebrows went even higher, finally finding a common ground between them, “What are your favorite kinds, Angelo?”

“I have quite a few. I have a love for poetry, mostly of the romantic form. Authors such as William Blake, John Keats, and Samuel Coleridge are among my go-to’s. For non-poetry, I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction, but I will read fiction if it piques my interest. The Betrothed, or _I promessi sposi_ , is one of the last long novels I have read.”

Dante tried his hardest, he really did, to hold in his laughter upon seeing Ernest’s dumbfounded expression. He also felt secondhand embarrassment, as his twin hadn’t needed to dunk on this boy’s intelligence so openly. 

“ _E promessy spusee_?” Ernest repeated. 

Florence interjected then, “That’s quite a book to be reading at your age, Angelo!”

“You’ve read it?” Vergil asked, a hint of pretentiousness in his voice. 

“I studied it in college. Now, I read the translated version, but it was quite the experience dissecting the book!”

“It is a wonderful novel. Of course, I read it in Italian, its original language.”

Florence didn’t let his remark bring her down, “I do have a smidge of Italian under my belt. Elementary level, but it’s better than nothing!”

Dante’s cackling died down, “Ha, you should know it considering your name. People might think you’re a fraud.”

Florence was staggered by that, but Ernest’s giggling forced her to go along with it. She figured it was in good humor rather than rudeness. She felt relieved when Ernest turned the conversation back to him. 

“I don’t read any of that, but I do have some interesting books about animals! And I have read a few mystery novels for school, for my English class.”

“Is your school hard?” Dante asked, drumming his fingers on the table. 

“I’m homeschooled, so I don’t think it’s that hard. I have my schedule during the week, and I get homework like everybody else.”

The timer went off, and Dante whipped around at the scent of the meaty, cheesy lasagna wafting out of the oven. Florence added to Ernest’s words as she took their dinner out, “His teacher, Miss Margaret, is an old colleague of mine. She is an excellent educator.”

“She’s strict,” Ernest whispered. 

The twins could relate to that, at least. They were reminded of Sparda— they had more memories of him as a teacher than a father. 

“Ernie, come on over and help me serve your guests.”

Ernest slipped out of his seat, and with their new privacy, Dante teased his brother. “You probably enjoy being here now, with your ego being stroked and all.”

Vergil kicked Dante’s shin under the table, and smirked when he yelped, “Not my fault you’re too dull to receive praise.”

“I hate you,” Dante choked out. 

He recovered just in time when Ernest brought two plates of piled up lasagna. The sight of the colorful meal made Dante’s mouth water. He detected the mix of seasonings in the meat, and he saw Florence was right, as mounds of bubbling, melted ricotta had dripped down and stuck to the plate. 

Dante waited for a fork, and the second he was handed one, he dug in. Florence and Ernest watched in astonishment as he devoured his sizable portion of lasagna. None of it shocked Vergil, having seen him speedily eat six portions of their mother’s shepherd’s pie before. While his brother’s unseemly manners irritated him, he let it slide as the lasagna was delicious. He cleaned his plate shortly after Dante did. 

Florence grinned when their forks hit the table, “Did you two enjoy it?”

Dante hummed a ‘yes’ with a mouthful of food. Vergil cleared his throat, “May we have another portion?”

“Oh, go right on ahead dear! Have as much as you want!”

The twins shuffled out of their seat and practically teleported to the pans on the counter. They scooped up slices of lasagna onto their plates, much larger than their first portions, and went back to their seats. In record time again, the food was devoured. Ernest had finished his first plate by that time. 

Happiness swelled inside Florence watching the twins go back for thirds. She mentally patted herself on the back for making two pans of lasagna. Ernest wasn’t a big eater, neither was she, but she knew the food wouldn’t go to waste. The first pan was cleared, leaving another full one for the boys. At their pace, most of that one would be cleared by the end of the night as well. 

Ernest fiddled with his fork by tapping it on the plate, “You guys sure eat a lot!”

Dante shoved another big forkful into his mouth, and Florence had to chide him, “Antonio, slow down, your food isn’t going anywhere. Don’t make yourself sick, dear.” She picked up her and Ernest’s empty plates and asked if he wanted more, to which he declined. 

“Mm’ll be finmf,” Dante responded, ignoring her advice. 

Vergil slowed down though and ate smaller bites until his third portion was gone. He gingerly patted his lips with a napkin, “Thank you for the meal, Florence.”

“You’re welcome, Angelo. Are you finished?”

“I am.” His twin was not, for Dante shot up for his fourth helping. 

“Antonio, eat slower this time please,” Florence said. He nodded, and the hearty lasagna seemed to slow him down overall as his movements were sluggish in contrast to before. 

Eventually, Dante finished his buffet of lasagna. He sat back in the seat with a hand on his belly, its swollen form hidden by his baggy hoodie. While the mother and son cleaned up the kitchen, he nudged Vergil with his elbow, “That’s the most I’ve eaten in what, a year? More?”

“Around that. You should’ve eaten slower and enjoyed it. Who knows the next time we will get to eat like this.” 

“You ate like a pig too, hypocrite. Anyway, that might not be true! If we stay in good favor with these people, we might get to come over all the time and eat like kings!”

Vergil snorted, “That will only happen if you manage not to scare them off by the end of the night.”

“Speak for yourself, snob.”

⚔⚔

The blocky TV lit up briefly, then turned black with neon words spread across the screen. Ernest pressed the red button on the square controller a few times until a new screen appeared with high scores and a menu. The sheer hues made Dante’s eyes squint, and he adjusted his distance from the TV to read the letters. 

**_1 OR 2 PLAYER_ **

Ernest spoke as he flicked through the options on the menu, “You know how to play right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dante scoffed. 

He didn’t have a damn clue. The TV’s controls didn’t make much sense to him, let alone the weird thing in Ernest’s hands. He cursed his parents to the high heavens for never having advanced technology. Sure, he knew what a TV was even back then, but he didn’t know what they were capable of. Eva never bothered to buy one and Sparda probably wouldn’t know how to work one anyway. Dante thought back to the archaic radio they used to have, and how his father would furiously mess with its antenna to get signal. He would swear at it, teaching the twins another language to speak in the process, and then Eva would swoop in. She could angle it right the first time, and he would praise her as if she wasn’t a human who had lived with radios her whole life. 

As utterly intelligent Sparda was, he had his hang-ups with man-made devices. He spoke a plethora of languages and wrote perfect calligraphy of each of those languages, studied the sciences ranging from petrology to astronomy, and had the sparring abilities that surpassed the legendary warriors of history. 

Yet, he couldn’t work a radio. Dante chuckled under his breath. 

“What’s so funny?” Ernest asked. 

“Nothing. Why don’t you go first?”

Ernest turned to Vergil sitting on the couch behind them, “You can play a round with us later if you want.”

Vergil leaned his cheek on his palm, “If it looks fun enough.”

Ernest shrugged. Dante whispered to him, “Don’t let him get you down, he’s a stick-in-the-mud.”

“I heard that.”

Dante stuck his tongue out at him. A loud beep made him whir back around, and he saw tiny green insect-looking objects fire white lines at a neon-colored aircraft. His eyes frantically glanced from the screen to the controller in Ernest’s hands, analyzing his button-pushing and stick moving to the little missiles being shot from the aircraft. The “invaders” burst into pixels as they were destroyed. 

Dante checked his twin’s reaction— he looked just as mesmerized but hid it better. When Vergil noticed Dante looking at him, he pretended to look bored. Ernest cut off any remark he was about to give, “I’ve gotten like, thousands of points before. You think you can beat that?”

Dante laughed, “I totally can! This is easy!”

“If you say so,” Ernest sang, focusing intently on the screen as the aliens were shooting his strongholds. 

“What’s the highest amount of points you can have?” Vergil suddenly asked. 

“Each invasion is worth 990 points, but altogether you can get a lot of points if you survive long enough.”

The constant beeping music grated on Vergil’s nerves. Dante shifted closer to Ernest and chatted about the aliens. Ernest laughed out loud at something Dante had said. Without a word, Vergil slid off the couch and left the room; if either of the boys noticed, they made no mention of it. 

Vergil was thankful then for Ernest’s tour from earlier as he headed straight for the hallway bathroom and locked himself inside. He tugged his hood down and got a good look at his reflection in the mirror. The clarity of the well-cleaned mirror made him realize how gaunt he truly looked. 

The purplish-black under his eyes could be mistaken for bruises, considering how dark they were in stark contrast to his pasty skin and icy hair. Vergil knew his brother and him had pretty blue eyes, the kind that could make one’s heart skip a beat (so his mother used to say), but only a ghoulish visage stared back at him. 

Vergil touched his cheek, rubbing the skin around his eyes and temple. Did he always look like that? Like a creepy doll pretending to hold a human soul? He expected cracks to appear in his porcelain skin when he vigorously scrubbed his face, trying to gain some semblance of color. 

He turned the faucet on, twisting the ‘H’ knob as far as it would go. It scalded his hands, but he persisted on splashing his face. After having thoroughly wet his face and the front of his hoodie, he forced another look into the mirror. His reddened face somehow looked better than it did before. 

Ernest had a healthy face dotted with pink and dark eyes that sparkled with mirth. Vergil, and likely Dante as well, looked dead and had sharp cheekbones reminiscent of adults who had already finished puberty. 

A concoction of embarrassment and anxiety boiled in his belly, and a wave of nausea soon followed it. He started to regret the greedy feasting from before. He ripped the hand towel off the wall rack and drenched it in hot water. Holding the warmed fabric to his face, he breathed in and out to ride the wave of nausea out. 

He had no idea he had been in there long, evening his breathing and fighting back the turmoil inside him until a soft knock disrupted him. 

“Angelo, are you in there? Are you okay?” Florence called. 

Vergil dropped the wet towel and forced his croaky voice to answer, “I’m fine, just my stomach felt a little upset.”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry to hear that, dear! Do you want a glass of water?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Vergil breathed in deeply again, then unlocked the door. He opened it right as Florence had left to fetch the glass. On his way out, he could faintly hear Ernest and Dante yelling excitedly. 

Florence nearly bumped into him when he entered the kitchen. “Here you go.” Florence handed it to him, then noted his pinkish skin, “How are you feeling?” 

The back of her hand touched his forehead and Vergil flinched. As if his skin had burned her, she yanked her hand away, “You feel a little hot. Did you-”

“I splashed hot water on my face.”

“I see. Well, since it’s so stuffy in here, would you like to sit on the porch? The cool air might do you some good!”

The boys’ voice, sounding similar to howling monkeys, reached the kitchen so Vergil agreed. He knew the way, but Florence led him regardless. 

One inhale of fresh air immediately cleared his head. The temperature outside had dropped a bit per the sun disappearing behind the horizon. Vergil gave a content sigh when the chilly breeze graced his warm face. 

Florence gestured to the porch swing and he sat down on it, the glass of water grasped in his hands. She stood back near the front door and crossed her arms behind her back to give him space. 

He then balanced the glass on his knee and watched the lights from downtown Morris Island glitter under the hills the house resided on. Ernest was right, the view was beautiful. He could make out a few individual buildings from his standpoint, like a café and a residential complex they had passed on the way up. 

The rolling green hills of the rural area were highlighted by beams of moonlight, and when he looked up to see the glowing moon, he noticed the sparkling stars Ernest also talked about. A few shone so brightly, and he racked his head for their names. He moved on from that thought, not allowing his brain to go down another rabbit hole. 

Hundreds of stars twinkled, and the closer he squinted, they scintillated each shade of the rainbow. 

“The stars are very pretty,” Florence added, as if reading his thoughts. 

“They are.”

Florence paused, then asked, “Does your stomach feel better?”

“It does,” he punctuated with a long sip of water. 

“Do you want to go back inside to play?”

Vergil blurted, “No.”

Florence came over and sat next to him on the swing. He gripped his glass tighter— he hoped she wouldn’t do what he thought, and he braced himself for scolding. 

“You can stay out here longer if you like.”

Vergil whipped his head to face her, “Really?”

Florence smoothed out creases on her skirt and cupped her knees with her hands, “Of course. Now, I won’t let you stay out too long as it will get colder this evening, but you don’t have to go back inside right now.”

“Why are you saying that?”

Florence cocked her head, “What do you mean?”

“Because it’s never about what I want. It’s never about what I think is right, I was always told I have to do what my brother tells me. I don’t hate being around him, it’s. . that I hate being forced to pretend, I hate being forced into situations where I feel out of place. Da- Antonio never feels the same way I do about it.” Words spilled out of his mouth and he regretted it as soon as he finished. 

Florence lowered her head and asked, “Are you put into situations like these often, Angelo?”

His heart beat faster, “No. I mean, not very often, but. .”

“Angelo,” Florence twisted her body to face him, “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. While I want Ernie, your brother and you to play together, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to have a good time, Angelo. I can tell that your interests are different than your brother’s, and if video games aren’t your thing, you don’t have to play. I know Ernest will understand.”

Vergil bit his lip, “It’s not just that. I kinda do want to play, the game looks interesting and all, but I. . I just. . It feels weird to me.”

“What feels weird?” She asked slowly, her posture tense as she treads delicate territory. 

He hesitated. He has already said too much. “I’m not making any sense, I’m sorry.”

Florence put her hands back in her lip and fidgeted with her fingers. She was at a loss for words. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought it through. As much as she wanted Ernest to have friends, she should have known it would be risky to have vagrant children over. She hated to think of them like that, and she didn’t reject Ernest’s need to have them over for that exact reason— she wouldn’t allow her son to have prejudices and think less fortunate children couldn’t play with him. But, his conversation was above her pay grade. 

In the end, her desire to give the brothers safety and happiness trumped her discomfort. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I would like to help, if possible Angelo.”

She gave him a small smile— long blonde hair and gray-green eyes briefly replaced her brunette locks and brown eyes. Vergil instead stared at the water in his glass. 

Florence thought of a path to take in the conversation, and she hoped he wouldn’t clamp his mouth shut once she asked, “Are you the older brother, by any chance?”

He slightly tensed, but she kept going, “Well, since your twins maybe it’s hard to say to who’s older, but I have this feeling you have taken up an older brother role. . It sounds like you do everything you can to keep him safe, and to make him happy even when you may be suffering.”

Vergil shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I also saw how you acted when your brother tried to get you in the car. Considering what you just told me, you didn’t want to come, did you?”

He said nothing. 

“I’m sorry if I have overstepped.” 

It took some time for him to reply, “It’s not that I don’t want to play, it’s not that I don’t want _this_ ,” he gestured to everything around him, “But, I don’t know what I want. I feel so out of place sometimes that I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel so conflicted— I deserve this, but another part of me says I don’t.”

“You do deserve it! You absolutely do!” She came off a little strong and he inched back, “I’m sorry. Listen, Angelo, you do deserve this. More than you realize.” How badly she wanted to bring up how he deserved to regain his lost childhood, to shuffle the cards he was dealt, but she didn’t want to embarrass him. ‘Angelo’ was a young child, but had the nuances of an adult— surely he knew that she _knew_ about his orphanhood, but no need to test that theory. 

His grip tightened on the glass, hard enough to shatter it. “You think so?”

“I do.” Florence breathed in and exhaled, “Now, we can stay out here, or if you feel comfortable enough, we can go back inside. You don’t have to play with them, we can do a puzzle instead if you would like. It’s up to you.”

“I want to go back inside.”

“Okay,” Florence stood up with him.

Vergil’s meek behavior flipped 180° and he tenaciously strolled to the door, “Besides, if my brother gets too good at that game, then I won’t hear the end of it.”

Florence laughed and opened the door for him. He thanked her and went inside. She stayed back for a few seconds, wondering if she made any progress with the boy. Opening up was obviously difficult for him, but he trusted her enough to relay his thoughts. If the evening ended on a positive note, she prayed the twins would return. 

⚔⚔

“Oh my god!”

Dante laughed maniacally, his hands a blur as he mashed the shoot button and directed his aircraft. Aliens exploded one after another, and his strongholds remained mostly intact. 

“How did you get so good so fast!?” Ernest said, his hands pulling down his cheeks in disbelief. 

“I’m a quick learner,” he replied, the fluorescent hues of the TV reflected in his eyes. “Aliens are no match for me! Nothing is!”

A thumping sound drew their focus away from the TV and to the doorway of the family room. Vergil had his arms crossed, “You’re not letting that fool defeat you so easily, are you Ernest?”

“Uh, no! He’s got luck, that’s all.”

“What? Nah, I’m totally good at this! Wait, Ver- Angelo when have you been gone?” He ignored the funny look Ernest sent him. 

Vergil rolled his eyes, “I was away doing my own thing, don’t worry about it.”

Dante copied his twin, “I didn’t, trust me.”

Vergil glared at him. Ernest slid to the side on his knees as Vergil sat on the couch, “Do you wanna play after we’re done with this round?”

“Sure,” he replied confidently.

Something was different about his twin, but Dante couldn’t place his finger on what it exactly was. An echoing tune then sounded from the TV, and **GAME OVER** took over the screen. 

“What the hell!?” Dante yelled. Ernest’s eyes widened at his words, while Vergil laughed, “That’s what you get for being distracted. I guess you lose this round, brother.”

“Are you serious! My score was so high!”

Ernest started giggling, “You’ll get another chance.” He was handed back the controller, and he waited for the game to switch to the next round. Dante laid back on the carpet, pouting over his unexpected loss. 

Vergil watched Ernest and the TV intently. It seemed easy enough when all he had to do was push the button and move the stick. The aliens, Ernest called them, were high in numbers but slow to move. As more invaders were killed off, the aliens moved faster to a rapid, unnerving beat. Vergil slid to the end of the cushion to try and map the movement pattern of the aliens.

Dante was chewing on the drawstring of his hoodie, then tilted his head back and grinned at Vergil, “You’re really into it, huh?”

“I’m trying to understand how to play.”

“Don’t try too hard now, I can see smoke coming out of your ears.”

Vergil tried to slap him directly in the face but Dante rolled away in time. Meanwhile, Ernest groaned at his aircraft being destroyed by the last alien. He complained about not doing as well as he usually did. He asked Vergil if he was ready to play, and was met with the scene of the brothers gripping each other’s hoodies, in some way trying to strangle the other. 

An uncharacteristically sly smile appeared on Ernest’s round face, “Hey, do you two wanna go against each other?”

They stopped abruptly, ears perked up. 

“I finished, so you guys can do a round against one another!”

Vergil shoved Dante off of him and reached for the controller in Ernest’s hands, “I’ll go first.”

Ernest retained his smile as he showed Vergil the controls, “Okay so, this is to move, and the button you press to shoot.”

“I get it, I watched you play.”

“Awesome.” Ernest stepped back and brought his knees up to his chest. Dante sidled up right next to Vergil, their shoulders touching. 

The TV blinked and the fifth invasion of the night had begun. Vergil scanned the screen and flicked the stick as he dodged the dangerous beams. He destroyed a few aliens, and with each kill, Dante deflated more and more. 

Ernest whooped, “You’re doing great, Angelo!”

Vergil nodded, agreeing with the praise. “I got this.” One of his strongholds was being attacked due to him hiding, and he tried to retaliate against the aliens, only to receive a hit. He cursed under his breath.

“Ooh, what a pottymouth,” Dante chided. 

“Shut up!” Vergil still had over half of the invaders left, and he was hit again, losing a life. “This is harder than I thought.”

“The almighty Angelo is admitting something is hard! Man, if I only could have recorded you.”

Ernest hopped forward and pointed right at a UFO flying by at the top of the screen, “Get that! It’s extra points!”

Dante yelled, “Don’t tell him that! Listen, Angelo, it subtracts points so-”

Vergil’s aircraft instead sustained another hit and it was game over. He slammed the controller in his lap, “I had it!”

“You didn’t.”

Ernest came closer to Vergil’s left side, “You were kinda close. You did better than Tony on his first try, ‘cause he died like, the second he started playing.”

“Not true,” Dante countered, and then stole the controller out of Vergil’s hands, “My turn.”

Dante ended up with a much higher score than Vergil, and he made it clear how much of a winner he was. He walked around the room, passing air kisses to his invisible fans. Vergil didn’t budge, silently seething at losing to his twin. Ernest, the kind boy he was, tried to give him tips and tricks so he could beat his twin next round. 

“I’d like to thank myself for being amazing at everything I do,” Dante announced to no one. “I really got it in me, you know, I just have the _touch_.”

Vergil had to restrain his urge to knock Dante off his ass. “He is so annoying.”

Before Ernest could reply, Dante got in Vergil’s face and tucked his hair behind his ear, “What’s that? I’m annoying? Oh, that sounds like something a _sore loser_ would say.”

The sheer ferocity of Vergil’s desire to beat Dante senseless manifested as tiny blue sparks in his palm— Yamato threatened to materialize, and Vergil had to reign in his emotions before harmless fun spiraled into a disaster. 

Sure that Ernest did not see his lapse in control, Vergil verbally repeated a trick that Ernest was telling him. 

“That’s right, yeah. If you listen closely, you’ll hear it. Follow it if you can.”

Vergil nodded. He could do it, no doubt. This is nothing compared to the training he received from his father, so surely he could follow the pattern of pixelated aliens on a screen. 

Dante’s winner’s high dissipated, so he retreated to his place next to Vergil, “C’mon, let’s go one more.”

“Of course, as if I would let your win stand. I’ll be taking the crown back.”

“Try and take it!”

The second round of invasions was smoother for Vergil— by following the musical pattern Ernest told him about, he managed to dodge most of the attacks and succeeded in eliminating all of the aliens. The last few were a challenge, but he kept his cool and drowned out any distractions, especially from Dante. 

Ernest cheered Vergil on, to Dante’s annoyance. When he was accused of playing favorites, Ernest responded by expressing his dislike for ‘gloaters’. Dante let his words slide off of him, but couldn’t help calling Ernest a ‘goodie two shoes’. 

For all of his shit-talking, Dante’s turn ended in failure with the last few aliens giving him trouble.

Ernest called for a third round to settle the score. The thick tension between the twins amused Ernest, and he bounced on the couch as Vergil played his final screen of invasions. 

While the twins were bickering, Florence approached the doorway and motioned for Ernest to come over. Taking a glance at Vergil’s aircraft status, he followed after her into the darkened hallway. 

“Are you guys having fun?” Florence asked. 

“Yeah! You should see them, they’re going at it like crazy trying to beat each other!”

“How cute. They’ve been getting along, though, right?”

“Yup!” Ernest popped the ‘p’, “They’re so funny! It’s cool how different they are despite looking the same!”

Florence pushed her cardigan closer to her body, “Those are identical twins for you; usually they are opposites in personality. Anyway, I have something I want to ask you, honey. . .”

Meanwhile, the twins were close enough to the TV screen to bump the glass with their noses. Dante bit down on his lip as he traced the aliens’ movements. The beeping’s pace picked up and the aliens practically mocked him as they avoided his missiles.

Vergil’s bony elbow jabbed Dante’s ribs, and so Dante forcefully bumped him away. “Get out of my personal space, dude, I can’t concentrate!” He said with gritted teeth. 

“It’s what you did to me!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did!”

Vergil continued to talk, but Dante tuned him out as the last, elusive alien floated side to side. He saw the beautiful, point-rich UFO skid on by, and he nabbed it before it could escape. “Jackpot!” Dante exclaimed, and the last alien exploded into blocks. 

“Ha!” Dante jumped up, “I won! Look at that score! The crown is still _mine_!” He made shooting gestures with his hands, “Man, I wish I could shoot lasers! Or missiles! Pow pow!”

Vergil put his face in his hands and angrily groaned. “Whatever.”

“Hey, don’t try to act unbothered now! It’s just killing ya isn’t it, losing to your baby brother for the second time!”

Vergil’s eyes glittered cobalt, “I’ll kill you right now for your insolence!”

Dante grinned from ear to ear, fangs bared, “Do it!”

“Hey, guys! Can I ask you something?” Ernest skipped into the room and rocked on his heels. The twins’ unleashed energies vanished and they scrambled to pretend like they weren’t doing anything. 

“What is it?” Vergil answered. 

“So, I was wondering if maybe you two would like to spend the night?” There was silence. Ernest talked with his hands, “My mom said it’s getting late, and if it’s not too much trouble, she would think it might be better for you guys to stay here for the night. You don’t have to, but I kinda want you to.”

The brothers’ brains malfunctioned, and it took a puppy-eyed look from Ernest to coax a response. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Dante said carefully, “I mean, we didn’t bring anything.”

Ernest’s sad demeanor switched to his happy-go-lucky self, “That’s okay! You guys can borrow my clothes, and mom said she can wash what you have on right now!”

Ernest changed the subject, “So, who won?”

“Pfft, I did,” Dante replied, “Like there was any doubt.”

“Aww, well there’s always next time, Angelo!”

“What! Where’s my congratulations?” Dante held out his arms in incredulity. 

Vergil smirked, “There is. I won’t lose next time.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll congratulate myself. I don’t care.” Ernest and Vergil left the family room, leaving Dante behind to bask in his glory. 

⚔⚔

After the excitement died down, Ernest brought the twins to his room for them to pick out what they would like to wear. To their delight, Ernest had a couple of blue and red-coded pajamas. Ernest had laughed at their insistence of staying true to a theme. Once they had the clothes situation figured out, they were told they could go on ahead and bathe— Ernest would go after them, once he helped his mother set up the boys’ beds in the living room. 

Dante and Vergil relished immensely at the hot water and abundant soap. At least half an hour was spent merely standing under the powerful showerhead, another half hour scrubbing every inch of their body, and then lastly, 15 minutes spent on repeatedly washing their hair until they considered it squeaky clean. 

It was such a gratifying experience, that they had not argued once during their bathing. It was a simple pleasure they could indulge in, and they wouldn’t allow anything to ruin it.

The dense steam further relaxed them, and it took great willpower for them to leave the bathroom. They didn’t regret it, as they were greeted by the living room flipped into a cozy paradise. 

The wraparound couch was heavily cushioned with soft blankets and comforters, the armrests hidden by fluffed-up pillows. They gawked at it until Florence walked in. 

“I hope it is comfy enough for you two! Ernie and I put out all the stops so the couch wouldn’t feel stiff. How was the shower?”

“It was nice,” Dante answered, “Really nice.”

Warmth bloomed in Florence’s chest, “I’m glad to hear. Well, you guys look tired and I won’t keep you up any longer. I already told Ernie that you will be turning in for the night.”

“Thanks,” the brothers said. Florence smiled sweetly, and switched off the lamps in the room, “Goodnight boys, sweet dreams.” She left, leaving a night light on in the adjacent hallway.

Dante had never felt so exhausted in his life, and like a mindless zombie, he crawled under the covers and shimmied to find the perfect position to sleep. 

Vergil followed suit. The second his head hit the pillows, he let out a pleased sigh. He couldn’t find the words to describe his utter contentment with the food, the showers, the velvety bedding— it was all lovely, and he didn’t want it to end. The thought of returning to the townhome and its conditions ruined any good feelings he had. 

He shut his eyes. No, he wouldn’t think like this. He wouldn’t go another night of unrest, not after seeing his pallid visage. He deserved better, just as Florence had said. Dante deserved better. 

Due to the darkness, he could barely make out Dante’s tuft of white hair peeking out, but he spoke in his direction anyway, “Hey, Dante, Or, Tony,” He looked into the scarcely lit corridor to ensure no one would hear, “Whatever your name is— I didn’t want to come here at first, as I'm sure you know.”

He paused, “I had every right to be worried about going to a stranger’s house. We’ve dealt with all kinds of deplorable humans, and while it was just a mother and her son, I was looking out for us, okay?”

Vergil heard a faint exhale. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, or me.” He sighed, “You have a lot of dumb ideas, in fact, most of what you say is pretty stupid, but for once. . for once, I think you made the right call, Dante. I’m kind of happy I came.”

. . . 

“Dante? Did you hear me?”

. . . 

_Snore._

“Dante? Ugh.” Vergil laid his head back on the pillow. “At least you’re sleeping well. Goodnight, Dante.”

Vergil brought the comforter up to his chin and laid on his side. Much like his twin, sleep came swiftly, and for the first time, they slept soundlessly; past nightmares are forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, Vergil's mini therapy sesh was a bit successful, and here's why i think he would open up in the first place, because i was a little worried he may seem OOC. he's a traumatized young kid, 9 close to 10 years old at this point, and he has a lot of inner turmoil. he doesn't know what the right choices are, he doesn't know what is truly best for him and his brother, he wasn't taught how to live as an adult yet, so poor Verge has a complex. as seen in previous chapters, he constantly goes back and forth with leaving the house versus laying low. then the fact he can't get his parents out of his head, he misses them dearly and has nightmares over it. . he just wants someone to hear him out, someone that could at least tell him he's doing the right thing for once. and as stated in the chapter, he and Dante are starting to figure out their place in their world, but wonder if they even have one at all.
> 
> Dante has his own complex, something not yet shown, but he does. he has taken the trauma and the death of his parents better than his brother, tho some of it is a facade. (just like in canon~)
> 
> if you guys agree, disagree, have anything to add, don't hesitate to reach out here in the comments or on twitter (@glitterghost)!!!
> 
> thanks again, and ill see you next chapter~


	5. house of gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a choice that will change the twins' lives is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovelies~ this ch is shorter at right around 3k words, but its at least a little break from the usual lengthy chapters. btw, this chapter focuses on Florence and her POV rather than the twins! another little switch-up. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!! comments and kudos always appreciated 🖤

While the boys slept peacefully, Florence tossed and turned the entire night. She stared at the ceiling for hours with dread swirling in her gut, and her mind polluted with anxious thoughts. Eventually, tomorrow (or today, she had realized by the glimpse of early dawn) that she would have to drop the twins off. Drop them off back to a state of homelessness, and back on the cold, _lonely_ streets. 

Adding to her anxiety was the sight of blood upon their clothes when she washed them the night before. Though they hadn’t asked, she thought it her duty to do so. Upon closer inspection when treating them, she saw faded, crusted spots of blood on the sneakers, and the almost indistinguishable stains on their black hoodies; notably the worst around the cuffs. Florence tried to reason with herself that they could have had nosebleeds, maybe they were caught on fencing, or they could have stepped in blood on the street. No matter how hard she tried to soothe her worries, the sight of it wouldn’t leave her mind. 

The mere implication of it all twisted her intestines until she felt nausea. She couldn’t do it. There was no way— especially after witnessing the utter joy on the twins’ faces as they devoured a home-cooked meal, played with a kid their age, and most of all, slept in warm, clean bedding had tugged at her heartstrings enough that she had shed a few, private tears in her room. Her little Ernie was so delighted too, finally having friends over and sharing his toys and games. 

At first, she had reprimanded him for showing too much, for she didn’t want the brothers to be offended by Ernest’s mass collection. Florence felt bad afterward, knowing Ernest was excited and had momentarily forgotten about the boys’ situation. Ernest had an inkling of what the boys were going through, but she hadn’t used the “H” word. He was smart though— he probably figured it out on his own. 

Ernest had also commented about wanting them over again. There was so much he wanted to show them, like new TV shows, new games, his favorite playground, the park near downtown, and the small house of twigs he built in the woods outside their house. Florence noted he had never been that fond of others who have stayed before. There was something peculiar about ‘Tony’ and ‘Angelo’ that attracted Ernest to them, and he had even gone as far as to call them his “best friends”. His loneliness might have been talking, but Florence could tell those feelings were genuine. 

She sat up. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and an ache started to build around her temples and eye socket. It was half-past five in the morning, and knowing she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, she swung her legs out of bed and forced her stiff body to move to the bathroom to get ready. 

A long, hot shower and two painkillers later, she was close to feeling normal. She could gather her thoughts now, and she toyed with the idea of calling for help— literally. The clock on the wall read 6:37 AM, and while her friend wasn’t guaranteed to answer, she knew she was up around this time. 

Florence sat on the edge of her bed and plucked the landline phone off its receiver from her nightstand. She cradled the phone to her ear and punched in the number. 

_Ring, ring, ring. . ._

_Ring, ring, ring. . ._

Florence sucked air through her teeth, and mouthed, ‘please pick up’. 

_Ring, ring. ._

A woman cleared her throat, but her husky voice still crackled in the speaker, “It’s a bit early for gossip, isn’t it, Florence?”

Florence snorted, “It is. Though this isn’t exactly gossip, Marge.”

“Oh?” Florence heard the shuffling of papers. “Color me curious then.”

“It’s about the twins.”

Miss Margaret gasped in surprise, “So you ended up having them over, after all. What a softie you are.”

“Well, me being a big softie has backfired.”

“In what way?”

Florence took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts one last time. She hopes she won’t sound like a worrywart or some nervous nelly, but Margaret knows her well and wouldn’t judge her anyway. “It’s led me to make a critical decision, one I may or may not like.”

“You’re being awfully cryptic,” Miss Margaret replied sternly, taking a scholastic approach. “Explain.”

For the next hour, Florence spilled her heart out to her. Every concern that had plagued her she spoke of, and in return, Miss Margeret answered them with a solution or countered Florence’s questions with a question— trying to obtain as much information about the twins that she could. In the end, Florence felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. A multi-path plan was curated by them, and Florence’s confidence boosted with the security of it. 

Hopefully, when the time came, she would know the right thing to do. 

⚔⚔

Florence peeked into the living room, seeing the twins securely tucked under their blankets, their bodies barely visible. She continued to the kitchen and took stock of ingredients and what options they had for breakfast. After deliberating, she decided to make omelettes. She had enough eggs and toppings to make at least five— whenever the twins woke up, likely not soon, she figured she could make anything else they wanted. 

Halfway through the first veggie omelet, Ernest softly stepped into the kitchen and whispered to his mother that ‘they’ were still asleep. 

Florence smiled, “Yes, they are. I’m sure they need it, so let’s be courteous and keep noise to a minimum.”

“ ‘Kay.”

Ernest poured himself a glass of milk and sat down at the table, eagerly waiting for his breakfast. “Hey, are they leaving today?”

Florence pursed her lips. “Um, that is something we will discuss later, Ernie. Not right now.”

Though she couldn’t see it, Ernest was happy about her answer. 

Late afternoon came, and the twins awoke from their coma-like slumber. Dante waddled into the kitchen first, his eyes barely open and his thick head of hair sticking up in every direction. Sleep lines were imprinted on his visible skin. 

“Hey, Tony!” Ernest greeted. 

Florence added, “Good morning, or should I say good afternoon.”

“Is there food?” He croaked, bypassing pleasantries. 

“Yes, there are vegetable omelettes that I made for you and Angelo in the fridge.” Florence took them out and set the leftovers on the counter. When her back was turned, Dante snatched two plates and ripped the saran wrap off. 

“Didn’t you want them heated up?”

Dante waved his hand and started eating without a utensil. Ernest watched the whole thing, and quietly handed him a fork. 

A few minutes later, Vergil walked in with a little more grace, and his hair kept relatively down. He looked alert compared to his twin, and judging by the drenched collar of his shirt, he had cleaned up first before heading in. He eyed the food in front of Dante, and before Florence could say anything about sharing the leftover omelettes, Dante cut his portion in half and gave it to Vergil. 

“There’s one more over there,” he said. Vergil nodded, and Florence heated the last plate, assuming he would prefer it that way. 

Their first meal of the day was over with and after the sleep-induced fog around Dante cleared, he expectantly looked around for more food. 

“Is there anything else you would like to eat?” 

Dante answered immediately, “Pancakes! With strawberries!”

Vergil stared at his twin and then at Florence. 

Florence clapped her hands together. “Then pancakes with strawberries we will have! I have some bananas and blueberries, would you guys like those too?”

Stars sparkled in Dante’s eyes while Vergil smiled. 

“I want some too!” Ernest exclaimed. 

The tranquil house quickly livened up. Chaos ensued when the boys insisted on helping to curb their impatience— Florence wrangled them every so often, mostly Dante and Ernest. Vergil stood in a corner of the kitchen methodically cutting up fruit, minding his own business. Dante tinkered with the stovetop and tried to test the heat with his hand and nearly gave Florence a heart attack. He laughed when he received a scolding, and told her it was no big deal. 

For the most part, the cooking went smoothly and swiftly after the preparation was finished. It was a taste of what could be and Florence realized she didn’t mind it one bit. Ernest’s permanent smile during it reasserted her sentiment. 

The twins’ vivacious personalities added character to a house that had begun to dull over the years. As a single mother with a homeschooled child, loneliness became a recurring feeling and one that permeated enough for it to be a normality rather than a rarity. 

Sitting down to eat was no different. As expected, Dante devoured his pancakes; Ernest followed in his footsteps. When the two of them were done, Ernest asked Florence if they could play the Atari, and she permitted them. 

Dante whooped, “Yeah, let’s play while there’s still time left.”

They were gone in the blink of an eye, eager to rack up higher scores. By the time Florence registered his remark, it was too late. 

Only her and Vergil were then left at the table, and she noted he was eating even slower than before. Her plate was clean before hers, but she stayed at the table until he was done. 

“Sorry,” Vergil suddenly said. 

“Nothing to apologize for! You can take as much time as you want.”

Vergil nodded and took his last few bites. When finished, he relaxed in the chair and stared thoughtfully at the puddles of syrup remaining on his plate. 

Considering he had already opened up to her, she wondered if he would again. His eyes had more than once flicked to her from the plate, his posture tense as if there was something he wanted to say. 

Forgoing the awkwardness, Florence spoke up, “Are pancakes your favorite?”

“I wouldn’t say they are. Tony likes them more than I do.” His sentence ended in a high tone, again with the implication that he had more to say. She waited for a breath, and sure enough, he continued, “We used to eat them a lot. Back then.”

With that said, Vergil grabbed his plate and headed to the sink. 

Florence considered those few sentences a success and followed him to the sink. “Now that you’re done, you can join Ernie and Antonio in the living room!”

Vergil nodded again. The cogs in his head were definitely turning, and something was preoccupying him from the present. He robotically left the kitchen without another word. 

Florence told him to have fun, and she dropped her smile once he was gone. She looked outside to the golden sun wavering through the silhouette of the backwoods and threatening to disappear below the horizon. Soon enough, the choice would have to be made. 

⚔⚔

Hours had passed faster than Florence realized. She had settled in the study room to catch up on a book, and the romantic thriller forced her to turn page after page. She finally tore her eyes away and set the book down, looking toward the clock on the wall. 

It was after seven and no word from Ernie or the twins. She filtered the sounds of their playing long ago, and when she honed her hearing, she then caught nothing. Worried, Florence left the study and checked on the living room. 

Ernest was asleep on the couch, and the TV was turned off. The gaming console was haphazardly strewn on the floor. 

She panicked and then heard hushed voices coming from the foyer. 

A cold draft helped lead her, and she stumbled upon the scene of the twins in the doorway of the front door, back in their newly washed outfits. Dante was standing and whispering angrily to Vergil, while Vergil stayed crouched and was tying his shoes. Florence cleared her throat and they became deer in headlights. 

“What’s going on here?” she asked, taking care to sound concerned rather than upset. 

They looked ready to sprint at any moment but instead stayed in their spots, frozen in place. Dante replied first, “We were. . leaving.” 

“Leaving?” Florence repeated. “And go where?”

The younger twin licked his lips, “Home.”

Florence chose her words carefully, “You were going to go home. May I ask how you were going to do that?”

Vergil stood up next to his brother and looked just as shaken. “Walk there.”

“Walk home? You mean, down the valley, through downtown, and across the bridge. By yourselves.”

Florence briefly wondered if this scene of catching the twins in a troubling act was commonplace back in their childhood. When they didn’t respond and instead averted their eyes, she dialed up her motherly tone, “I’m a little taken aback that you two want to leave so suddenly, and without a goodbye. Did something happen to cause this? Do you two feel unwelcome?”

Dante raised his voice, “No! It’s not that! We just- we-”. He looked to Vergil for help, and he took Dante’s signal, “We feel like we have overstayed. It was nice while it lasted, but we can’t stay here.”

Florence blurted, “Why not?”

They stared at her, at a loss for words. Surprisingly, Dante answered with blunt honesty, “Because we’re orphans. We’re not meant to be here, for long anyway.”

She tried to hide her shock and a cold splash of pity that hit her. _Orphans_. This wasn’t a case of runaways or abandonment; these kids had their parents ripped from them. They had no choice in the matter and had to survive because whatever evil plagued their world decided to induce suffering upon innocent children. 

Ernest’s father and the scene of his death flashed in her head, and she held back tears. The twins and Ernest had a little more in common than she thought. The memory steeled her resolve. She would allow them to have a choice now, and they won’t have to suffer alone anymore. 

Pursing her lips, she turned her attention to Vergil, “Angelo, we had that conversation yesterday. I want you to remind yourself of what we talked about, and I want you to tell your brother about what I said, assuming you haven’t.”

“Wait, what? What did you guys talk about?” Dante asked.

Vergil ignored him, and replied to Florence, “I thought that was just in general, what we talked about. I thought you meant we deserved the time we have here, and to enjoy it while it lasted. Well, it lasted, didn’t it?”

Florence wanted to pull on her hair but calmed herself down. “No, no, sweetie, that wasn’t just it! I meant that you two deserve anything good in life. And, the good things don’t always have to end.”

She breathed in and remembered what Miss Margaret told her, “Be honest with me. Do you two want to go back to where you are currently living?”

Dante fiddled with his sleeves. “No, not really.”

She looked to Vergil, and he mimicked his twin’s actions without meaning to. “It’s not perfect, no, and I don’t completely miss it.”

“Then don’t go back. You don’t have to.”

They stared at her as if she was speaking an alien language. 

“I mean it! You don’t have to. You can stay here, for as long as you like.”

Dante chuckled bitterly, “Do you actually mean that? You actually want us here? Like, we just don’t go back?”

Florence fought the urge to hug him. “Yes. We do. Ernest likes you two a lot, and he will understand you guys staying here.” She sighed, “I don’t like the idea of either of you on the street alone. I don’t. I know we’re just getting acquainted, but Angelo trusts me so far, and I want you to as well, Antonio. I don’t want you brothers to feel alone in this world if I can help it.”

Vergil repeated Dante’s words, “You really mean that?”

“I do. I mean all of it. What I said to you yesterday, and what I’m saying right now to you two. All of it.”

Dante touched Vergil’s elbow and whispered in his ear. Florence vaguely heard the words ‘Mom’ and ‘wanted’. Vergil’s posture became rigid at first, then sagged. He spoke slowly, “We will stay.”

Relief flooded Florence. Before she could proclaim her excitement, Ernest popped into the foyer. “You guys are staying!?”

Dante smirked, his boldness back, “Yeah, forever. How does that sound?”

“Forever! They’re staying forever!” Ernest was flabbergasted but grinning. “Really! That’s awesome!”

Florence didn’t have the heart to ruin the joke and went along with it. “They’re staying Ernie, but you still have a bedtime. Go get ready for bed.” She turned toward the twins, “That goes for you guys too. I let it slide yesterday, but we have to get back on schedule.”

Dante rolled his eyes, “We have schedules too. Or used to.” He followed Ernest while Vergil regarded Florence. 

“Thank you, truly. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Angelo.”

A sweet, wholesome smile spread across his face, and he trailed after his brother to prepare for bed. 

With the situation de-escalated and resolved, Florence closed the front door and locked it. She kept her hand on the doorknob and gazed up through the decorative windows on the door up to the sky.

_I don’t know your name, Mother, but I hope you can rest easier in Heaven knowing your boys are safe. I will do what I can for them._

The mild breeze outside suddenly picked up and created a whistle that sounded like a melodic voice singing among the woods. The loud, euphonious sound soothed her soul. 

Florence smiled and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh ho ho what a surprise! or maybe not hahah regardless, i got the idea about them staying with Ernie and his mom from the anime. . . because i thought that's what happened the first time i watched it LMAO i must've not been paying attention, but i thought Tony stayed with Ernest when he was a kid after he was orphaned. turns out they were childhood friends, somehow. of course it doesn't match canon, but that's okay CAUSE I'M FIXING IT. i will _make_ it make sense.
> 
> also, im so so happy to hear that Ernie and Florence are loved TT lil sunshine boy and his sunshine mom


	6. back to the basics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante and Vergil settle into their new home, and have an epiphany.

The entirety of the week after had been spent integrating the twins into Florence and Ernest’s home. Florence had taken some days off from her job as an office clerk, and Ernest’s homeschooling had been put on pause— the boy was on cloud nine having a mini break from classes and getting to enjoy said free time with the twins and his mother. 

Florence then had the boys write down a list of what they wanted alongside basic necessities for the shopping trips they would need to take. The first thing Vergil wanted was a haircut, but refused to go to a public barbershop, leading Florence to trim his long ‘do without screwing it up. He ended up with some layers, a feature she had not planned on adding, but Vergil looked content when he ran his fingers through them. As long as he could push his bangs out of his face, he was happy. 

Before the newfound family took off to the mall, they made a quick stop at the twins’ humble abode to pick up any belongings they had. Florence offered to park a block away to preserve their dignity, and the twins accepted her offer. 

They had returned with little— a couple bags of snacks in Dante’s arms and a torn journal in Vergil’s. Ernest complimented the journal, causing an uncharacteristically bright smile to appear on Vergil’s face. Dante, who had kept his prized bags close to his chest and looked ready to bite anyone who came close, shared the last of his candy with Ernest during the course of the car ride.

The twins left the strip mall feeling rich. They had bought copious amounts of clothes tailored to their taste and palette (Ernest still couldn’t help but giggle at their favoritism with red and blue), and they left with a brand new bunk bed. It fit their brand new bedroom, unfortunately lacking in size, and Florence didn’t have to dip more than a fingertip into her savings. 

After numerous trips, assembling the bunk bed, and arranging the house to make space for the twins, the stress had dwindled down as the week went by. Everything on the lists was crossed out— then came the weekend, and they all could relax a little. 

Until the subsequent Sunday afternoon when the boys heard a loud knock at the front door, and the twins heard a second woman along with Florence. At the sound of the adenoidal voice, Ernest sprang up from the couch and made a beeline upstairs. 

“Hey, where you goin’?” Dante asked. 

“I didn’t finish the week before last’s assignments,” Ernest replied hurriedly, “Don’t say anything if she asks.” His door shut loudly behind him and the twins were left befuddled. 

Florence called for the brothers. The voice that made Ernest run was attached to a lanky woman in a burgundy dress and gold-rimmed glasses. She held the same soft smile as Florence, as Eva, and her eyes sparkled at the sight of the twins. 

“Antonio, Angelo, this is Miss Margaret. She is Ernest’s homeschool teacher, and she will be yours as well.”

Miss Margaret slightly bent her knees to greet them, “I’ve heard so much about you two! It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Dante cocked an eyebrow at Florence, “Have you been talkin’ about us?”

“It is a pleasure to meet you too,” Vergil spoke over his twin, “We have heard good things about you from Ernest, Miss Margaret.”

“Oh!” Miss Margaret was taken aback, “Well, don’t you have quite the group of gentlemen, Florence!”

Florence accepted the compliment but looked as perplexed as Dante. She changed the subject, “Boys, Miss Margaret is here to review your education.”

“Yes, I will be assessing where you stand right now in your academics. I won’t be teaching you today, only testing you on different subjects to see your strengths and weaknesses.”

“Sounds fair,” Vergil piped up with a smug smile.

A look of disgust marred Dante’s features in stark contrast to his brother. The teacher kept her smile and told them to go on ahead to the study while she grabbed her materials and supplies. 

With the adults out of earshot, Dante side-eyed his brother, “You’re such an ass kisser.”

“I am not an _ass kisser_ , it is called staying in good graces. You wouldn’t know such a thing since you’re a babbling buffoon with no manners.”

“That’s a lot of words to admit you’re a nerd.”

When they entered the study, Vergil shoved Dante’s face into the side of a bookcase. Miss Margaret, struggling to juggle binders and paperback books, didn’t register Dante’s groan of pain when she walked in. 

Dante rubbed the bridge of his nose and sat down at a large, round table with Vergil. Ink pens and pencils were set in front of them, along with a stapled packet detailing the day’s goals. Each page of the packet centered around a subject and its subsections. The lengthy list coaxed another groan from Dante while Vergil flipped through it, nodding to himself. 

Miss Margaret clapped once. “Alright boys, you ready?”

Dante replied ‘no’ the same time as Vergil said ‘yes’. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’!”

Three hours later, Florence was chopping vegetables in the kitchen when Miss Margaret finished reviewing with the twins. She heard the click of her friend’s heels and turned to greet her, looking forward to hearing about the children’s current progress. 

The nonplussed expression the teacher held put Florence’s stomach in knots. “Marge, what’s wrong? Did it not go well?”

“Quite the opposite,” she replied. Her lips still thinned as she picked at the ascot around her neck. 

Florence’s facial expression then mirrored the teacher’s. “What does that mean?”

Miss Margaret glanced behind her and then leaned closer to Florence, keeping her voice to a hushed whisper, “You said they were orphaned for at least a year, correct?”

“I believe so, from what the Broomfields have told me. It could’ve been longer for all I know since I haven’t asked the twins directly.”

“Well, the reason I ask is that I had assumed due to their temporary homelessness they would be academically behind. Primary school covers many, _many_ topics and are centered around preparing the child for higher levels of schooling. The foundations of their knowledge are built in their respective grade levels, hence my anxiety when assessing them. I was worried they would be so behind it would take ages to catch them up. I mean, even one year out could spell a disaster for them.”

Florence had a twitch of a smile, “So you’re saying this was not the case for them?”

“Oh, no. If anything, they are utterly gifted children.”

“That is wonderful! That is a bit perplexing considering, but you were so somber when you walked in I thought the worst!”

“I know and I’m sorry. It’s just, they threw me for a loop when they had passed most of the worksheets I gave them. I had started with some basics, and I mean very basic stuff, such as handwriting and simple math. I knew they felt insulted by it, but it’s part of the assessment. I then went into a slightly higher level curriculum, and they finished each assignment with flying colors. They have extensive knowledge in science and literature. History was above average, as well. The one subject they had trouble with was mathematics; they’re behind on division, but that can be easily remedied.”

Miss Margaret continued, “Angelo is a fantastic reader with an equally fantastic vocabulary, but he does mispronounce ‘big’ words now and then— he must be an avid reader of texts above his grade level. Antonio, on the other hand, doesn’t care for reading like his brother but had no issue with interpreting higher-level texts.”

“My goodness. This is wonderful news! Do you have any idea as to who taught them all this?”

Miss Margaret shook her head. “No. I tried for an answer but they were tight-lipped. I assume it was either the parents or another homeschool educator. They were not in a public school, that I am sure of. Whoever it was taught them way in advance.”

“This definitely paints me a picture of what their parents were like.”

“The brothers don’t look older than 10, so the parents must have started school either earlier than normal or crammed a lot in a few years.” 

Florence checked on the boiling water on the stove and then slid the chopped ingredients into the pot, “Not just that, the twins seem to be bilingual. I know Angelo has fluency in Italian, because he said he read _The Betrothed_ in its original format. Now, whether that was a fib or not, I don’t know, but he has proven he knows Italian to some degree.”

Miss Margaret clutched her ascot like it was a set of pearls. “At some point, it feels like overkill. Maybe one of the parents was Italian, which would make sense, but the twins must have been in class for most of their childhood, for them to know such a plethora of topics; their knowledge spans far and wide, even about things I wouldn’t consider a child knowing.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to assume anything about their parents, but they do sound very driven.”

Miss Margaret replied, “They do. Now the curiosity is killing me. They’re an eclectic duo, those brothers, and they don’t seem as prim and proper as they would be if they had especially strict parents. Not to mention, they have snowy white hair. I’ve seen platinum blonde, but their hair is actually white-”

“Oh c’mon Marge,” Florence chided, “Let’s not talk about that. They don’t like it when others point out their appearance.”

“It’s not like they can hear me.”

“You never know when kids might be eavesdropping.” Florence tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pot and swiveled back to her friend, “Anyway, because of how this has turned out I’m concerned about Ernest.”

“Because he might feel inferior? Well, we will have to ensure he knows he is not any less smart than them, rather the twins had a head start on their education and that’s why they are ahead. It’s not exactly a lie since we don’t even know the truth.”

“I guess you’re right. I want them to be friends and to have a good relationship. I don’t want competition or resentment toward one another.”

Miss Margaret chuckled, “Welcome to parenthood. You can’t control your children's emotions but you can at least try to steer them in the right direction.”

“Yeah, I just hope I can do right by them.” 

Florence smiled when her friend clasped her shoulder. “You’ve taken them in, given them shelter, food, and love. You’re doing great so far, trust me.” Miss Margaret squeezed her shoulder, then let go. “Now, I want to discuss our schedules, just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

⚔⚔

Meanwhile, Dante and Vergil were seated on the couch in the family room, Vergil absently watching Dante play Space Invaders. Vergil had the idea of reading one of the books Ernest had recommended to him, but decided against it to give his brain a rest after the lengthy assessment process. Though it pained Vergil to admit it, he truly hadn’t used his brain academically in some time, and he was mentally exhausted after trying to figure out long division. Miss Margaret told them it was fine and that they were on course for their age, but having a problem Vergil couldn’t solve made him feel weak. It didn’t help that Dante finished his math sheet quicker than he did. 

A perfectionist streak ran in Vergil’s blood, and he took it personally anytime he couldn’t handle a task the first time. He didn’t give up of course, as the frustration only fueled his motivation to be amazing at anything he tried. 

Dante wasn’t a perfectionist by any means. If he couldn’t get it right the first time, it was alright— he would try again, and hope his second attempt would be successful. Fortunately for the twins, there was rarely something they couldn’t get right with practice. They could attribute that to Sparda. 

On a related note, playing the console game religiously made Dante a force to be reckoned with, and he racked up scores higher than any amount Ernest dreamed of achieving. At some point, he was able to play on autopilot, which rid the game of any challenge. 

Dante robotically directed the joystick of the controller as he spoke, “I might play that other game he has. ‘Midnight Driver’ or whatever it’s called.”

Vergil didn’t respond, but sighed while bringing his knees up. 

“It looks cool. Man, I wanna go to an arcade so bad. There’s apparently hundreds of games in the one Ernie goes to, and they have prizes.”

His twin’s interest was slightly piqued. “What kind of prizes?”

Dante shrugged. “I think stuffed animals and toys. He showed me some that he won a couple weeks ago.”

Vergil snarled, “You think I want some stuffed bear?”

“Sorry. Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll have a new edition dictionary they can give you.”

To his surprise, Vergil didn’t slap the hell out of him. Dante’s body flinched, and he heard Ernest’s voice entering the room. He seemed oblivious to the fact he just saved Dante from getting a bloody nose. 

“How did it go?” Ernest asked as he sat down in a chair perpendicular to them. 

“It was fine. We’re not behind, so there’s that,” Vergil answered. “Miss Margaret is nice.”

Ernest beamed, “It’s awesome that we will be able to do our homework together, and we can study together!”

Dante groaned, “Homework? Really? What’s the point of all that.”

Ernest cocked an eyebrow, “Did you not have homework when you guys were in school?”

Vergil replied, “No. We were just taught things. . The only thing that was tested on was our swo — speaking, um, languages. We were taught Italian and some others at home.”

Dante gave Vergil a look and then looked at Ernest. “How much does she give?”

“How much homework? It’s like a couple worksheets a night, or a few pages of bookwork. I don’t think it’s that bad, but I don’t really know what they do in public school, so I have nothing to compare it to.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Seriously? What’s the point of all this? I mean, I get being tested on knowledge, but what is it all for? What am I going to do with my life where I need to know how to do equations?”

Ernest shifted in his seat, and furrowed his eyebrows. It was a question he asked Miss Margaret once, and she answered that it was for his potential career. He decided that was the best thing to say, considering he was at a loss otherwise. “Uh, well, it’s for your career and stuff. Like when you’re older, when you choose what you want to do. You learn science, so you can be a scientist.”

Vergil nodded along. “I guess that makes sense. You find what you enjoy learning about the most, and you pick that field of study.” While listening to Ernest, Vergil caught Dante’s distant stare. His hand stopped maneuvering the joystick, and aliens ruthlessly attacked his aircraft on screen. He nudged his brother’s elbow with no response. 

“For example,” Ernest began, and Dante snapped out of his trance, “I want to be a fantasy writer! I wanna write about dragons and knights! Though, I just thought about it recently. Apparently when I was like, six I said I wanted to be a dinosaur.” Ernest chuckled, but it died down when Dante and Vergil stared at him incredulously. 

Their judgmental gazes and lack of response wrung an excuse out of Ernest. “I was six, okay! Dinosaurs are cool!”

Vergil shrugged. “If you say so. Anyway, you want to be a writer?”

“Yeah. I like reading and writing, so why not? Some of the authors I read are super popular, and I wanna be like them!”

Dante finished his round of invasions and got up to turn the console off. He had no witty comeback about young Ernest wanting to be a triceratops or of the like; instead, he sat back down crisscross and fixated on the hem of his shirt. 

Ernest added, “I wouldn’t worry about it right now. If you don’t know, that’s fine, there’s a lot of time left until we’re older!”

Right then, Florence called for Ernest from the kitchen, citing that Miss Margaret wanted to check on his homework from the week before. Ernest stood up and spoke under his breath, “Good thing I just finished it.” 

“Godspeed, Ernie,” Dante said. Ernest gave him a thumbs-up as he left the room. 

Dante’s focus lingered in the dark corridor for a while, until he turned to Vergil. “What we want to be when we grow up, huh. Did you ever think about it?”

Vergil sighed, and honestly replied, “No I have not. I thought ahead when necessary, for our survival, but I didn’t think about the future. About _my_ future.”

“Neither have I. I thought we would be stuck on the streets for a long time and we would just— just do whatever.”

“Yeah. We’re a part of a household now, and have opportunities.”

Dante was quiet again. Vergil was unsettled by the change in his brother; his bravado had been replaced with wistfulness, a look that didn’t suit Dante’s features. It was unlike Dante to allow anxiety to run amok in his headspace, and Vergil was bothered by it. He wouldn’t allow it to continue. 

“What’s wrong, Dante?” He asked, his twin’s real name holding meaning after having to keep up a charade. 

“I don’t know. I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What did our Mom and Dad want us to be?” Dante said abruptly. Vergil’s gut twisted at the mention of their parents. “Dad was a demon, right? We’re sure he was, and not Mom. So, what did he do? Was he a teacher, and that’s how he knew all that stuff, and why he had all those books in his library? But then, why did he train us with swords? Why give us swords?”

Vergil started to reply, but Dante steamrolled over him. 

“He gave us Rebellion and Yamato on our fifth birthday, and remember how sad he looked, Vergil? How he looked like he was on the verge of tears when he handed them to us while our birthday cake candles were lit?” Dante stuttered as he reached for the amulet from underneath his shirt, “And what about our necklaces, the amulets? Mom said they were important, and were a gift from Dad and her.”

“Dante, please-”

Dante fully faced his twin. “What does it mean? What did he want us to be? What did Mom want us to be?”

Vergil whispered, “I don’t know.”

Emotions had been bottled up inside Dante for too long, Vergil surmised, and they were starting to bubble over the top. 

“I don’t like thinking about it. I tried to stop thinking about it, because what does it matter now, right? We’re with a new family and we can do whatever we want. Whatever they had in store for us means nothing. But,” Dante paused for a few seconds, “Ernest brought it up, talking about our careers and things we wanted to be. It struck something in me, Vergil. I don’t know what I want to be, or what I want to become. I have no goals. And then I realized, I know nothing about our parents, especially dear old demon Dad. I know fuck all.”

“I don’t either.” Vergil replied, not bothering to chide his brother for his vulgarity. He tenderly held Dante’s arm. “They taught us everything and anything, our Dad gave us powers, and we don’t even know what to do with it.”

Dante slumped on the couch and chewed on his bottom lip. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but opted against it. 

“What can we do?” Vergil asked rhetorically, “Mom’s dead and our Dad left years ago, also presumably dead. We can’t exactly ask them.”

“I don’t like thinking about it. I want to hate him for leaving, for not helping us and Mom, yet I can’t. I just want to know where he was going all those times, and what was so important that he left us for good.”

After he abandoned them and Eva, he often pondered what the breaking point was. Did all the immature spats get to Sparda enough that it made him want to leave permanently? 

Every time Sparda didn’t show up for dinner, Dante would think back on the day and search for something that might have angered his father. Any excuse Eva gave them flew in one ear and out the other, and Dante hid his dejection behind a smile as he pestered Vergil for attention. Vergil usually indulged him, but that all had changed around the time of their father’s permanent absence. Vergil’s resentment toward Sparda manifested in isolating in his room with stacks of books, leaving Dante to spar alone with posts and tree trunks on the family acres. 

His train of thought dropped him off at a memory of sparring with his father. He was teaching Dante on his form with the Rebellion: _Don’t swing it like a bat, son,_ he had said, _you’re not playing a sport_. Sparda had him stab the dummy repeatedly, fixing Dante’s stance each time. Dante’s arms had been aching, his muscles screaming for a break, but Sparda never let up. When Dante had stayed mindful of his stance, and cleaved the dummy in half with precision, Sparda clapped and cheered. _That’s my boy! See, you had it in you. It takes practice, Dante, and practice makes perfect. You did excellent._

Dante’s throat burned much like his arms did back then, and he swallowed down the threat of tears.

Vergil inched closer to Dante. “We might never know. Our own Dad is shrouded in mystery. All we have are context clues. We’re half-demons, we have mystical swords, and we were attacked by demons who might have had something to do with our Dad.”

Dante sighed frustratedly and laid his head on Vergil’s shoulder. It sounded asinine that they had beef with the denizens of Hell, but after those warehouse goblins called them wretched half breeds, it seemed their existence alone was enough of a reason to be hated.

Hearing Vergil’s breathing in that moment made Dante exceedingly gracious they were still together. They had no idea as to what they wanted to be, what they were supposed to be, and still had no clue on how to live a normal life, but they could manage it together. Whatever came their way, they would tackle it together. 

Vergil thought out loud, “If Sparda was truly a demon and had lived for a long time, do you think we could find out about him another way?”

Dante scoffed, “Through what, an educational TV show? C’mon.”

“No you dolt, I mean what if there is some kind of text on him?” Dante straightened up at that. Vergil continued, “Grimoires exist, and there are testaments about demons. What if he’s in one?”

“Man, I think we’ve reached a whole new level of crazy here. You really think there’s a book just sitting in a public library that talks about our Dad?”

“We won’t know until we check. Florence and Ernest buy books often, so we can try out our theory next time they go.”

Dante snorted, “Maybe every time he left he was meeting with someone to write his biography.”

“Sounds like him, doesn’t it?” Vergil smiled. “Maybe he did, and that’s how we will learn about him; through other people.”

Dante curled up beside his brother. “All this talking and thinking made me sleepy. And hungry.”

“Understandable. You used a lot of your energy trying to get that brain of yours to work— the poor thing needs rest and nutrients.”

Vergil felt Dante grin against his shoulder. “So that means you should shut up when you see me stuff my face with candy. I’m giving this ‘poor brain’ of mine nutrients.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

In the foyer, Florence bid Miss Margaret goodbye, and wished her a safe trip home. She locked the door behind her, and checked on her vegetable beef stew on the stove. “It’s still some time before it’s done. Well, our big to-do for the day is over, and there’s nothing else that needs our attention. Where are the boys?”

Ernest replied, “I think they’re still in the family room.”

“Okay.” Florence placed her hands on her hips. “I think starting tomorrow we will officially be back in routine. I think everything is in place. They have their necessities, they’re getting lessons, they seem to be comfortable. ..”

Ernest muttered, “Miss Margaret will be back tomorrow.”

Florence ruffled Ernest’s hair. “Please, you had a whole week off. At least the twins will be with you during lessons now! Hopefully they won’t be a distraction.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. After a week with them I know when to tune them out.”

Florence burst out laughing, “You already have a read on them?”

“Yup. They’re a little predictable. Tony will say something to Angelo with a big smile then Angelo glares and you know that’s when Tony is getting hit.”

“Oh my. I’m surprised I have yet to see that in action.”

“You will, trust me.”

Florence laughed again, “Well, hang out until dinner is ready. I’m going to start folding laundry and hopefully I can get it done before the stew is.”

The mother and son then parted ways, Florence right down the hall to the laundry room while Ernest disappeared upstairs, presumably to his bedroom. 

Before she knew it the timer for the stew went off, and Florence quickly folded a few washcloths to finish her chore. The timer beeped relentlessly in the kitchen, and she huffed. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” she replied out loud. She heard Ernest’s footsteps on the stairs, and realized the twins must still be in the family room playing games. 

“Hey you two, dinner’s ready,” Florence announced at the doorway. She stopped in her tracks and gaped at the sight before her. 

Dante and Vergil were cuddled on the couch, Dante’s head nestled into his brother’s neck and Vergil clutching his brother’s arm in return. Under the warm lighting from the window and with their babyfaces, they looked like innocent, little angels. 

Florence held back her coos so as not to wake them. Ernest peeked in, telling her he turned off the timer.

“Ernie, get the camera from the study,” Florence whispered. 

“Huh? Why?” 

“Do it, please.”

Ernest did as he was told and retrieved the polaroid. Florence took it from him and she softly stepped into the room to get a front-facing view of the sleeping twins. She pressed the button and the bright flash emitted from the camera stirred Vergil. 

He rubbed his eyes and slurred, “What was that? What time is it?”

Ernest took the polaroid from his mother before Vergil could see it. “It’s dinnertime,” Ernest replied as he inspected the developing photo. The camera did a good job of retaining the boys’ angelic appearance, their pale cheeks and white hair highlighted by the flash. 

Vergil pushed Dante and he awoke with a jerk. “It’s dinnertime,” he repeated after Ernest. Dante’s eyes shot open and he slid off the couch. 

Florence told them it was ready in the kitchen, and to help themselves. The brothers left, whereas Florence and Ernest stayed behind to gush at the photo. 

“Oh, look how adorable!” Florence giggled. “I’m going to see if I can get it printed larger and get it hung up!”

“Will they like that?” Ernest asked, amusement in his voice. Florence shrugged. 

“Hey, if you slowpokes don’t hurry, I’ll eat all your food and you won’t get any!” Dante called from the kitchen. 

Ernest gasped and ran to him, “Tony, no! Save some for me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another wholesome chapter~ its what the boys need, and what we want am I right? 
> 
> some of my HC's about Sparda and the twins' childhood are sprinkled in this chapter. giving Sparda personality and motives are one of my favorite things about this fic, and one that I will love to delve into more as the chapters go on! (shameless plugging of my twit @glitterghost /cough if ya wanna scream about DMC headcanons)
> 
> anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and until next time <3


	7. between the lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante and Vergil go searching for clues, and meet trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy spardaverse week!! to commemorate: a new chapter!
> 
> also, we've reached 100 kudos! I'm just over the moon that my very self indulgent fic has received so much support. truly, thank you to everyone reading and to all those who leave lovely comments. i read every single one, usually multiple times! they definitely keep me going! <33
> 
> now, onto ch 7! like always, hope you enjoy~

Dante pushed his fur lined hood down upon entering the cozy, brick-built bookstore. The inside heating clashed with his chafed cheeks and he scrubbed his face to regain some blood flow. The mild, autumnal weather was left behind as bone chilling breezes had drifted from the surrounding bodies of water of Morris Island. Dante swore it was colder on the island than it was in Enamel City, including the heatless townhome they used to reside in. 

Vergil had opted for a hoodless coat, and instead wrapped a thick, blue plaid scarf around his neck until it covered half his face. His unobscured eyes scanned the inside for a direction to take. Dante picked a random path, and Vergil followed him. 

Florence and Ernest split to the romantic and fantasy aisles respectively. The twins vaguely heard Florence telling them not to stray too far, and Dante yelled back a ‘we won’t’ to the annoyance of a few other patrons. 

With the two humans out of their way, the brothers carried on their plan. Row by row they looked for the most appropriate category. In the very back of the bookstore, they came across an endcap showcasing a book about abrahamic angels. The display coaxed them closer, and they found an aisle dedicated to supernatural genres. They passed Religion, Mythology, Folktales, and Paranormal until they hit the end of the aisle. The meager Paranormal section was their best bet as the next row delved into a completely separate genre. 

The twins combed through the shelves for the keyword: demon. Fairies, witches, ghosts and even aliens but no sign of demons, at first. Dante plucked an _Occult Dictionary_ out of the shelf and skimmed the pages, and put it back after it was merely defining occult terms, nothing else. 

“Jackpot.”

“What did you find?” Dante leaned over to Vergil squatting at the very end of the row. 

His twin held up two books, one titled _Daemonologie Encyclopaedia_ , and the other _Book of the Fallen: Demonic Monarchy_. “These might be of assistance.”

Dante took the fallen book, and plopped down on the hard carpet of the bookstore. He opened the first page and immediately sighed, “You owe me for this.”

Vergil did the same as his brother, and tried to get comfortable. “Owe you for what? I thought you wanted to find out about our Dad?”

“I do, but I can’t believe I have to do all this reading after we had lessons and homework today.”

While Dante had wanted to push the homework for later that night, Vergil insisted they finish it before they leave for the bookstore; less to worry about, he said. 

“Whatever.”

Dante triumphantly smiled.

The verbal exchange died down and they honed in on any crumbs about Sparda. Considering each book was more than a hundred pages long, they wasted no time. Their eyes swiftly roamed each page downward sentence by sentence, then back up the page in case they missed something. Every ten or so pages they checked for Ernest or Florence, then they resumed their machine-like scanning. The last thing they needed was either of those two to see the satanic covers of the books they were reading. 

The _Book of the Fallen_ , Dante surmised after 40 pages in, detailed the types of demons and the supposed corresponding rituals that summoned them onto Earth. The majority of them were smallfry that could be summoned for greedy desires, such as wanting wealth, love, and/or popularity. 

Vergil’s choice of study had some promise, its contents wide and abundant about witchcraft and how demons were used to power humans. Vergil noted the book spoke in past tense, considering the original print was written centuries ago, but he was sure witches still existed in his time even if he hadn’t seen them in person. 

One of the texts in his father’s library spoke of alchemy and witches along with the weapons of mass destruction they were capable of crafting from the pieces of damned souls. He had set it down soon after starting it as it was boring, and at the time he thought it fictitious as he had no reason to believe any of it was real. Vergil regretted not indulging more of that library’s contents— in his defense, for a long time he refused to go in there after his father’s permanent absence. He had been afraid of imagining his father hunched over his desk, and seeing that small smile upon his father’s face, like he had never left. 

There were phrases that were familiar to that text he had read. Unfortunately, witches were not his priority, so he disregarded the similarities and read on. 

“Find anything interesting?” Vergil asked his brother. 

“Nope.” 

“Neither have I.”

Dante released a lengthy exhale and turned another page. His ears perked up at the sound of Ernest’s voice a couple rows down. The voice traveled away, so he let down his guard. The situation was getting on his nerves. 

For the sake of his curiosity, he trudged on. 

80 pages in then, and he really began to question the authenticity of the text. Dante hardly believed humans had all the knowledge about Hell and its denizens anyway, but the book reeked of entertainment rather than education. He knew all too well the existence of demons, but the human author obviously did not. He would pay the author all of his stolen riches if the pictured demons were in fact real. 

The majority of the demons shown in messy sketches looked like poorly done amalgamations of animals. The rituals for them also seemed way too much trouble, and honestly a bit stupid, for love or minor popularity. Examples of said rituals included mixing uncooked grains of rice with milk and hair. At some point, the book was surely taking the piss out of its audience. 

Dante didn’t understand how humans could lust for such things to an extent they would ask a _demon_ for help, let alone to have the courage to stand out in the woods with a bowl of milk and chant nonsense. Sure, his demonic heritage gave him strength and pretty killer healing abilities, but so far it was a burden rather than a blessing. 

He heard a couple walk by the aisle, and briefly wondered what they, normal human beings, would think if they knew he was a half-demon— a half-demon among men blending into the crowds (the best he could anyway, when one looked the way he did). Then, he wondered if Florence and Ernest would cast him and Vergil away if they knew. Anxiety formed a rock in his stomach, further deepening the pain was the incriminating book in his hands. 

Ernest’s voice echoed from one row over and Dante slammed the book shut right as Ernest peeped around the corner. 

“There you guys are! I was looking for you.”

Dante hid the book behind his back, his puffy parka doing a good job of keeping it out of sight. Vergil had flipped his book to its inconspicuous back cover. 

“We were reading through some books to see if they were any good,” Vergil answered. 

“Oh, are you guys reading about ghosts and stuff?” Ernest motioned to the sign above them. 

Dante grinned, “Yeah, we’re not afraid of ghosts. The stories are kind of funny, actually.”

Ernest made a face like he heavily disagreed with that statement. He then turned to Vergil. “So, I found a couple fantasy books I think you would like. They—”

When Ernest briefly turned his back as he rambled about the books he found in another aisle, Vergil gestured to his twin and then pointedly looked at the book in his lap. Dante followed along, and they had a silent conversation by using facial expressions and hand motions only; their mastery of such a thing was enough to make a mime jealous. Understanding what his brother wanted, Dante gave his twin an ‘OK’ symbol. 

Vergil shot up and rounded the corner. Ernest moved to follow him but Dante prevented him from doing so by blocking his path and plucking a book out of the boy’s hands. “So, this one you said was about sorcerers, right?”

“Yeah! I have a lot of books about magic and wizards already, but this one has a guy who can speak to animals and transform them into deadly monsters!”

“Cool, cool.” Ernest bounced on his heels, Dante had learned the tick signaled the boy’s sheer excitement. Dante opened the book halfway, and gasped along with covering his mouth with his hand in mock shock. “Dude, I think someone important dies.”

“Tony!” Ernest whined, “Don’t spoil it for me!” Ernest read the page Dante was on and found nothing about death. “You’re so mean!”

Dante handed the book back. “I’m just screwin’ with ya. Anyway, what is it about magic powers and dragons you like so much?”

“You don’t wish you had magical powers? I do!”

Dante wanted to burst out into laughter— instead he pursed his lips and shifted his weight. 

Ernest continued, “I wish I could shoot lightning out of my hands, or be able to breathe underwater and control fish with my mind, or fly with giant wings! And then I could fight bad guys and be a hero.”

“Oh really?” Dante inquired. “It all sounds nice but being a town’s hero doesn’t do it for me.”

Atypical of the sweet boy, Ernest rolled his eyes. “You’re taking it too literally. I just like to imagine those things. I don’t care whether it would make sense or not. Maybe I wouldn’t really like it either, but I like dreaming about it. Does that make sense?”

Dante didn’t make eye contact with Ernest as he pondered his question. “Yeah, it does. But I don’t think too much about things like that.” He had a ghost of a smile, “Maybe I don’t have the kind of imagination that you do.”

Florence interrupted the conversation, and as she came closer, Dante noticed the shirtless men on the covers of the compact books in her arms. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. 

“Tony, where’s Angelo?”

“He’s an aisle over.”

“Okay, good. Ernie, are you ready? You found what you wanted?” Florence held his free hand. 

“Yup.”

Dante took his cue. “I’ll tell my brother to hurry up, and we will meet up with you guys at the check out.”

“Alright, but there’s not many in line. Be quick about it as I also don’t want you two out here by yourselves for much longer.”

“Of course, of course.” Dante kept his smile as they left, and he acted as if he was leaving the aisle as well to search for Vergil. Right then, he heard books tumble to the ground. He almost bumped into Vergil, who was behind him frantically scouring the shelves. 

“Wait, how long have you been there?”

His twin didn’t reply, and his eyes were wide as he shoved books to the side looking for something.

“What are you doing?” Dante asked, bewildered. 

“Read this!” Vergil all but threw the _Daemonologie Encyclopaedia_ at Dante. “Page 271. Third paragraph down.”

Dante found the place Vergil told him to read, and he squinted at the tiny letters. As he read, Vergil switched to the other set of shelves and rummaged through them. 

_Hell and Earth won't be one. The demon King Pluto ruled over this combined dimensional ship, till the legendary Dark Knight Sparda cleaved the fabric that bore these two together, and allowed humans to safely walk the earth. Since too, demons hast found ways to cut into earth's fabric by. ._

Vergil yanked the book out of his hands. “Hey, I wasn’t done!”

“The second edition of this book that presumably speaks of demonic legends is not here. This is all that it says of Sparda. There is nothing else!”

His brother’s visage swam in Dante’s vision as the words he had read finally sunk in. Legendary Dark Knight. His Dad. . was a Knight. A Knight that _cleaved the fabric of Earth_ and shooed demons away, if he interpreted correctly. Rebellion howled in his bones, yearning for its owner— past owner. Amazement turned to bitterness because Dante greatly wished their father had shared his life with them. He sounded like a hero, and as narcissistic as Sparda was, he never told stories of his epic battles or anything to do with separating dimensions for the sake of humanity. 

Dante snapped out of it and followed after Vergil, who had stomped up to an employee. The employee didn’t see Vergil’s scowl behind his fluffy scarf, and instead beamed at him. “Hey, little guy! Whatcha need?”

Vergil scowled even further and showed the man the book— a surprised expression flashed across the employee’s face for a second, before being replaced with another cheesy smile as he listened to Vergil’s question. “Where is the second edition to this?”

“Uuuuhhhhh,” the man stalled, “I don’t believe we have it. That one in your hands has been sitting on our shelves for a long time. We don’t get a lot of books like that here.”

“Well, where did this one come from?”

“It was a used book we bought off someone.”

Vergil grunted in frustration. “Who was this someone?”

The employee chuckled, “I couldn’t give you that information even if I had remembered them.” Vergil looked dejected, so he added, “Privacy laws and all that, sorry bud. But! If you really wanna find the other edition, I suggest going to a bookstore of larger size because they will have more variety, or finding a store that’s tailored to stuff like this, like those tarot card reading places or something.”

“Thank you for the suggestions. You’ve been helpful,” Vergil said with utmost courtesy. 

“Anytime! So, uh, is this book for school or do you have an interest—”

Dante piped up from behind Vergil, “None of your business.”

The employee put his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I get it. Kid stuff, right? Regardless of what it is for, good luck!”

Dante saluted the man and walked back to the Paranormal aisle with Vergil. His twin slotted the book back in its place. “You don’t wanna keep it?” Danted asked. 

“No sense in it. Most of the information is unhelpful, and the one phrase that is wasn’t even expanded on. It’s useless now.”

“If that’s the case then let’s get goin’. Florence and Ernie are in line to check out.”

The twins soon found the check out line, and were just in time as Florence was next to go to the counter. She questioned their empty hands, and Vergil was disappointed he didn’t have time to explore the poetry section; he gave the excuse that he didn’t find what he was looking for. To his delight, Florence told him they could come back the incoming weekend if he wanted more time to browse. On the other hand, no one batted an eye when Dante said he didn’t find anything interesting. 

Florence held Ernest’s hand once they left the store and hit the sidewalk, then told the twins to do the same with each other. 

Begrudgingly, Vergil grasped Dante’s hand. In response, Dante made a kissy face at him and teased, “You’re so kind, brother! I would get lost without you!”

Florence didn’t have to turn back to know Vergil shoved his twin. “Stop, you two. Don't push each other when we’re near the road.”

“He shoved me first!” Dante complained. 

“You were in my personal space.”

“She told us to hold hands so we don’t end up as roadkill, who cares about your personal space.”

Ernest giggled and that fueled the twins’ antics, so Florence amped up her ‘stern mother’ voice. “It doesn’t matter who started it. Don’t push each other. Hold hands and behave, please.”

The brothers finally complied. The walk back to the car was quiet due to the twins retreating into the depths of their consciousness. One answer had led to thousands of other questions, and other than looking for another bookstore, they were out of options already. They hoped the next store would be more favorable. 

⚔

Florence’s promise to return to a bookstore fell through. Due to the twins still settling into the house’s routine, chores had piled up. While Ernest and the twins each had their own responsibilities regarding upkeep, homeschooling lessons and homework threw a wrench in their schedules. Returning to her job worsened it, as Florence was no longer home for most of the day to help. 

Vergil maintained his belief of preventing procrastination, so he forced Dante to hurriedly finish the rest of their combined piles of homework, and to assist him in cleaning their room and the family room. 

Ernest, stuck in his own bubble, had not finished either of his duties. Dante grabbed at his chance to get Vergil to “pay him back”. 

“Hey, Florence?” Dante asked with an uncharacteristically innocent tone. He propped up on the kitchen counter while the woman dried clean dishes, and he displayed his signature puppy eyes. “Can Angelo and I play outside since we finished our to-do list?”

He had prepared any comebacks in case she rejected him, but he didn’t need to utilize them as she readily said yes. “Sure. You know the rules though—”

“Yup, I know the rules, take our coats and don’t go too far away from the house, I got it.”

Florence narrowed her eyes at him yet hummed in agreement. 

Since he had her permission, Dante darted through the house and ripped Vergil away from inside the study. Vergil protested and dropped the book he was reading. Despite his verbal protests, Vergil barely resisted. 

“We’re going outside!” Dante exclaimed. “You know what that means, right?”

Vergil’s voice was flooded with sarcasm, “Ah, of course. This is me making up for all that _awful_ reading you had to do, oh how did I not see this coming.”

They zoomed past the kitchen into the foyer, and Florence reminded them again to take their coats. As they slid on layers and their shoes in the entryway, Vergil murmured, “How are we going to spar with our swords when she can see us?”

Dante then tipped his head and Vergil looked back to see Florence leaving the kitchen. “She won’t be able to. As far as I know she’s doing laundry next, and that room doesn’t have a window.” Dante grinned with sharp canines and all, “We’re going into the woods behind the house, and then we can do whatever we want!”

Vergil smirked, “Aren’t you clever?”

Dante soaked in the compliment. “I’m something of a mastermind, you know, a genius if you will.”

Vergil finished up and opened the door. “I wouldn’t go that far. Don’t hype yourself up when your track record of notable intelligence is abysmal.”

“My track record for kicking your ass is pretty good.”

“Not even close.” Vergil’s response was lackluster, and he knew it; luckily his brother chose not to clown him for it. Dante tied his converse and off they went. 

To be entirely sure Florence wouldn’t see them, they tiptoed around the side of the house and ducked under any windows. They waited a beat, and when it seemed as if Florence and Ernest were too busy to notice, they sprinted into the woods. 

Dante and Vergil ran around skinny bare trees until they hit a small clearing surrounded by dense, towering Evergreens. They stripped their bulky coats and accessories and hung them on a branch. 

Dante placed his hands on his hips and breathed in fresh, pine-scented air. He looked up to the clear azure sky above them, and took a few seconds to orient to the environment. Other than the whistling of a bird or two, the forest was silent. No houses or people in sight, either. Dante exhaled again, and reached for the steel imprinted in his bones. His empty left hand then felt weight, and he opened his eyes to the gorgeously crafted blade of the Rebellion. 

Months away from handling his heirloom meant nothing once he wielded it. A sense of familiarity and comfort filled him, and he gripped the hilt tighter. The text he had read about his father entered his mind for the hundredth time except it was no longer a useless reminder of the unknown; instead it was used as gasoline to ignite his spirit. 

Dante sensed the Yamato, and without hesitation he struck. 

The two blades met with a show of sparks. Vergil flicked his wrist to slice from the side and was countered by the Rebellion. Over and over Vergil tried to take advantage of possible weak points but Dante kept him at bay. They then switched offense and defense, Dante testing his brother’s patience by relentlessly stabbing at his guard. 

Vergil clenched his teeth and pushed back at the barrage of attacks. Unbeknownst to Dante, Vergil had Yamato's scabbard in his right hand. A downward strike of the Rebellion put him in the perfect spot to be thwacked in the face with the wooden scabbard. 

“What the hell?” Dante cursed. He wiped his nose and blood smeared over his knuckles. “When did you have that?”

“I had it the whole time. Pay attention, Dante.” Vergil circled Dante, and they stared each other down like two predators fighting over prey. “You’re not losing your touch, are you?”

Dante licked his gums and tasted iron. “Not a chance.”

Vergil spread his knees and set one foot forward, keeping his back straight as he lifted the Yamato to a straight, horizontal position. A form worthy of praise (as his father would say). Dante didn’t move as much as his twin, and raised his blade, keeping one hand right below the other on the hilt. 

Dante pounced from his spot and with momentum, aimed right for Vergil’s side. Vergil shifted his feet and parried the darting attack. Dante spun to strike again from the other side, and lodged his blade deep into the tree trunk that was behind Vergil. 

Dante groaned frustratedly. He tugged at the Rebellion until it slid free. The cracking and splintering of the tree fell on deaf ears as they continued to spar— even the sound of the tree meeting the ground did not deter them. 

At the start of their swordplay, they had careful, precise strikes that would not harm the other, nor tear the other’s clothes. That was forgotten, as Vergil’s sweater was soon cut open across the stomach, and Dante gained blood stains on his neckline and jeans from numerous blows to the face. 

Blisters from healed calluses re-opened on their palms. The pain of the blisters, the excited cackling of Dante, and the bloody noses they both carried felt more like home than the warm meals and soft beds back at Ernest’s house. 

Vergil swept his twin’s legs out from underneath him. Dante thumped his head on the hard forest floor and saw stars. The swords were forgotten as Dante then gripped Vergil’s ankle and pulled him down onto the ground. They wrestled and rolled all over the dead leaves. Dante put his brother in a chokehold, only to be elbowed in the face. Vergil had Dante locked between his knees, and received a toothy bite on the thigh. They hit a stalemate and neither moved. 

They gulped breaths of air on the ground. The sky above them looked the same as earlier, leading them to believe they hadn’t been out for very long, yet their energy was fully spent. Though all of their wounds healed, the soreness of their muscles was not erased. 

Dante stretched while laying and felt his spine pop. 

Vergil made his wobbly legs cooperate so he could stand up and stretch. “I think that’s enough for today.”

“I can agree to that.” Vergil raised his eyebrows at the prospect of his twin agreeing with him. Dante turned on his side and braced his head. “How are we gonna explain our clothes?”

“You’re the _genius_ , figure it out.” Vergil sighed, “We were rough housing and we fell on some sticks, snagged our clothes. Not entirely unbelievable.”

Vergil picked up his discarded Yamato and scabbard, about to sheathe it. 

_Crunch_. 

Their eyes immediately flicked to the source of the sound. Another pinecone crunched. 

Dante stood up and didn’t hide his distaste as a man walked up to them. 

“Hey! I heard a lot of noise, are you two playing out here?”

Though the Yamato was taller than Vergil, he kept it behind his back and to the side, away from the view of the man. Goosebumps traveled over his skin and his hackles raised. “We were playing. If we disturbed you we apologize, but we will be going on our way. You can leave now.”

Dante heard the thinly veiled threat in Vergil’s words, but it seemed it flew over the man’s head, who stepped closer. 

“It’s alright. You can continue, I was just wondering what all that racket was!” The man laughed, the sound not at all genuine. His smile was tight, the skin stretching across his face like it didn’t fit him. 

Along with his odd smile, the man had an uncanny valley appearance— his crystal blue eyes were abnormally large and set far apart, his cheekbones were much too sharp, and his hair was an unrealistic pure black. A shiver traveled down Dante’s spine as the man walked fully into the clearing. 

Vergil suddenly pointed the tip of the Yamato directly at the man. “Step away.”

The man backed up, though only slightly. “Oh, woah! Hold on there, is that a sword? Why are you carrying such a large thing?” The man inspected it from different angles. “That looks like a display sword; you didn’t steal that from your parents did you? Looks a little dangerous for a young kid to have.”

Vergil bared his teeth and hissed, “I said, to step away!”

Dante mirrored his brother and raised the Rebellion. “What he said. Walk away, old man. We won’t tell you again.”

The man didn’t move. His tight smile appeared again, and he looked between the two. “Or else what? You’ll stab me? That wouldn’t be very nice.”

“Fuck off!” Dante screamed. He shot forward with a warning strike, but the blade was stopped by the man’s hands. Dante heard clinking, and realized the man’s fingers resembled claws, the claws themselves made of a sturdy, jewel-like substance. They reflected light, and sang as he dragged his claws over the steel blade to pull Dante closer. 

“You deserve a punishment for your language, little boy.” In a flash, the man swung the sword with Dante still attached to the hilt and slung him into a tree. 

The man then snapped his head toward Vergil. “Come on, _let’s play_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bookstore employee: y’all readin' about demons? ahh, childhood. rock on, little dudes
> 
> the titles of the demon books are based off of existing titles, btw. they don't actually exist haha you guys may have noticed too that 'Pluto' was written instead of _his_ other name.. hmmm...
> 
> a break from domesticity straight into some brawlin'! we will see how the twins fare next chapter~


	8. subhuman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You cannot kill me  
> I am Omega  
> You cannot kill me.  
> I am Subhuman."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! time to see how well the twins do~ i want to preemptively apologize for what is going to occur in this chapter lol 
> 
> btw, the demon in this chapter is heavily inspired/referenced by a monster concept art from the DMC5 artbook, this [one](https://twitter.com/Zolvios/status/1354204080579567616) in the top right hand corner specifically! credit to the OP for posting it!!
> 
> and just to be sure, tw: details of gore and mentions of vomiting

Out of the corner of his eye, Vergil saw Dante stand back up. He was fine; a small toss wouldn’t keep him down. Dante snarled and stayed toward the man’s back to keep him between him and Vergil. The man was not at all threatened evident by his stretched grin. 

Vergil stood resolute, his Yamato pointed directly at the man’s throat, the massive blade unwavering. “There will be no playing. I will strike you down right where you stand!”

“You have a lot of arrogance, little boy. That sword is only deadly in the hands of someone who knows how to use it.” 

Vergil narrowed his eyes and his grip tightened, leading Dante to call out from across the clearing. “Don’t listen to this dumbass. He’s trying to goad us.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then loosen your grip.” Vergil hesitated, but did so. It wasn’t often Dante had to chide his twin, but there were moments Vergil allowed his pride and emotions to get the better of him— especially when his prowess was insulted.

The man clapped, his claws clinking together. “How sweet to listen to your brother. Unfortunately, even with two of you, you are no match for me.”

“This body too, is not fit for me.” The man raked his claws over his face, the hair and skin stretching like rubber as he ripped it off. Dante and Vergil watched a dark-hued mass burst forth from the shedding human skin. Said transformation was triggering an instinct deep within their souls calling for elimination of any threat to themselves and each other. 

The sack of skin was discarded, and left behind was a hulking, broad figure adorned with opalescent crystals. The clear gemstones ran from its claws up its arm and jutted outward on its shoulders— its bug-like eyes and proportionately smaller head were also encased in the jewel-like substance. 

Dante whistled. “Wow, you’re even uglier than before.” The demon bristled at the insult. 

Its crystals shone under the sun, and in any other circumstance its beauty may have been appreciated by Vergil. He gazed upon the demon with utter distaste and nodded to his brother. 

The twins dove for the demon simultaneously, their blades aiming for its unprotected torso. Rebellion and Yamato met in a spark and the momentum nearly knocked them to the ground. Their target had disappeared seamlessly, and the twins swiveled on their feet for a glimpse of it. 

Their eyes roamed the trees and yet not a sign of the black figure. 

_Crunch._

Dante slid to the side right as sharp claws struck where he stood. In seconds, the demon had vanished once more. 

“I didn’t think it meant we would literally be playing. This is a stupid game!” He spoke out loud. “If we’re no match for you, then prove it! You’re not afraid, are you?”

It didn’t answer. Vergil tilted his head side to side, and his knuckles whitened around the hilt of the Yamato. 

This demon was unlike anything they’ve yet to meet; which wasn’t saying much considering they could count the different types of demons they had defeated over the last two years on one hand. All of those demons relied on sheer brutality rather than gimmicks. Vergil guessed any tricks up its sleeve had to do with the crystals on its body. There was a low chance in Hell they served purely cosmetic purposes. 

Vergil’s pupils constricted immensely, his demonic blood at work as he honed in on his surroundings. Somehow its ostentatious appearance escaped his inhuman eyes, proving his theory that the enemy had a gimmick or some power relating to cloaking itself. He detected the faintest wisp emanating from the demon. Its traces were too weak to follow, worsened by the demon’s constant movement. 

Prisms flickered in Vergil’s periphery. He studied an empty spot near the fallen tree, and as he had believed, colors were indeed reflecting in the air. When weight dented the grass beneath the shimmering hues, that is when Vergil realized. 

“Dante,” Vergil hissed. “I know what it’s doing.”

The prisms shot from one side of the clearing to the other as he spoke. Scattered leaves were disturbed and whipped into the air. Vergil slowly stepped backwards to close the distance between him and his brother. The tiny waves of color then outsped him and were lost to the autumnal palette surrounding him.

“It can become invisible. The only clue we have to its location is the reflections from the gems on its body.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

The twins then stood back-to-back, weapons poised. Tiny rainbows lit up the trees with the aid of the sunlight, the reflections nearly blinding them at certain angles. Black faded in and out of their periphery and a breeze whirled around them, likely caused by the enemy’s taunting. When the air finally stilled, another blur of black flew past them and they both flinched. The ensuing cackle reinforced their beliefs that the demon was toying with them. 

“How are we supposed to hit something that’s invisible?”

Vergil slightly turned his head. “Find its weak point, that’s all we can do. Since its head is heavily protected, that must be it.”

Dante sighed. “This is such a pain. How is something that fat and heavy running circles around us?” 

A shadow blanketed Dante, and claws whizzed past his face as he ducked. Vergil shot out from behind Dante and trimmed the edge of the demon’s side before it cloaked itself and hid. The resistance felt from the blade indicated the demon’s flesh was harder than he had believed. It was going to take more than a couple stabs to bring it down. 

A smirk crept onto Dante’s face as he strolled around the clearing. “Is this the first chance you’ve gotten to show off your cute tricks? You’re going a bit overboard. Sorry, I’m not impressed.”

Leaves crunched parallel to him. Dante darted to its hiding spot, and met it halfway. Rebellion ricocheted off what he presumed to be its shoulder; he tightened his grip and struck again, the steel shaving off shards of crystals. 

“Aha! Jackpot!” Dante laughed. “You’re not as tough as you look, pal.”

Its dark body blinked back into existence, and it wildly swung its claws in a desperate attempt to dice Dante into pieces— each attempt futile. 

_**“Do not insult me!”** _

“Hey, it speaks!” 

Vergil suddenly appeared behind the demon in mid air, the edge of Yamato perfectly directed to slice the demon’s head clean off. The demon raised its hand to grab the blade, instead earning a deep cut to its wrist. Oil-like blood seeped from its injury and shards trickled as it hopped away from the brothers. 

Vergil stared coldly while its flesh healed. 

“Y’know, I’m more impressed by the fact you can talk with your head inside rock. Way cooler than your disappearing act.” Dante remarked. 

The demon roared and its body pulsed. In a strange turn of events, the chunks of jewels Dante had carved out floated into the air, and fused back together on its shoulders. 

Vergil clicked his tongue. So, not only were the crystals a reservoir for its power, but the demon can manipulate said crystals as well— no choice left other than to destroy its supply, if it couldn’t generate more naturally. Regardless, they didn’t have all day to deal with this annoyance. The sun was inching down to the horizon and the azure sky was gradually shifting to warmer tones. They had at least an hour before they would lose their light source. “We need to be faster. Overwhelm it with attacks and decimate its defense.”

Dante rested Rebellion on his shoulder. “You want me to distract him?”

“It would be helpful.”

“I can do that.” Dante snorted. 

The brothers positioned themselves on opposite sides of the clearing, and Vergil waited with bated breath. Dante stayed relaxed, taking a small stroll around his little section of the open area. He caught a glimpse of the prisms and promptly turned his back. 

“Oh, where might you be, demon? Do you have a name that I can call you? If not, I’ll just make one up for you.”

Vergil stiffened as the prisms showed the enemy stalking toward Dante. 

“How aboooouuut Bug-eyes? Nah, that’s too on the nose. Wait, I got one! Sparkle. No, no. . Twinkletoes! Since you’d rather dance around me all day than actually be a threat.” Dante nodded along to his own joke, “Yeah, Twinkletoes!”

_**“You are not worthy of knowing my name, weak half-breed!”** _

Dante rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘this again?’. He rotated in record time and parried the demon’s claws. The demon was thrown off balance and Dante beamed, “Tricked ya!”

The demon flared in and out its cloak trying to defend against Dante’s violent sword thrusts. Its escape attempts were consistently thwarted by his twin, and Vergil counted how long its body would stay ‘solid’ each time. 

Vergil bent his knees and minutely shifted the Yamato’s scabbard while keeping a grip on its hilt. In his head he ran through each step of iaido his father had taught him. If he was fast enough, his quick draw should easily cut through the crystals around its head and leave it vulnerable to a deadly downward swing of the Rebellion. His father had joked that the Yamato could cut through anything if drawn properly. Vergil hoped ‘demonic crystals’ were included in that comment. 

To assist him, Vergil channeled the energy in his blood and the Yamato began to glow a vibrant violet. His skin buzzed with the surge of power, and for a second he became drunk on the newfound heat coursing through his veins— the effects of his hellish blood always sent a sweet shiver down his spine and cleared his head. 

Dante secured an opening and shattered the crystals shielding its chest. The pommel of the Rebellion punched said weak spot and sent the demon fumbling toward Vergil. 

“Now’s your chance!” Dante yelled. 

One strike was all he needed. He focused on its crystallized head, unsheathed the Yamato, and—

A vortex of violet energy warped the space around the demon. It stood suspended in the refracted space, various slash marks lining its body. Vergil sheathed the Yamato and time fast forwarded with a metallic screech. Iridescent shards exploded into the air, the shattered crystals resembling confetti.

The demon’s muffled voice reached a painful falsetto as its opaline helmet had been reduced to useless fragments. 

Yet, the opportunity to end the demon’s suffering did not come. In fact, it was utterly ignored.

“Dude!” Dante exclaimed. “What was that!?” He ran past the writhing demon and clasped Vergil’s shoulders.

Vergil had not moved from his position until he was shaken by Dante, and he then gaped at the katana in his hand. “I-I don’t know. I did that. . _I_ did that.” He returned the wide smile Dante gave him. 

His brother shoved him hard, though out of exhilaration. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve seen you do! You think I can do that?” Dante twirled Rebellion around. “This beauty can do something similar, right?”

“I assume so.” Vergil preened, his wholesome grin then smug. “Start training harder and maybe you’ll reach my level.”

Dante’s mouth opened but Vergil didn’t hear it. Behind Dante, the tiny fragments of crystal shards rose into the air and melded together to form innumerable daggers resembling icicles. Vergil grabbed Dante the same time the demon screamed, _**“I won’t let you best me!”**_

It happened within seconds. 

Dante hit the ground. Rebellion was knocked out of his hands. His ears rung with the sound of flesh being punctured and a gurgled whine carried by the breeze. 

He quickly propped himself up and was met with the sight of his brother pierced with countless opaline daggers. Every icicle bypassed the Yamato uselessly held up in front of his body. Vergil groaned and with a shaking hand, touched a shard that was embedded in his forehead and fully exited his skull. Blood poured out of the wound in rivulets, its path meeting the heavy rivers flowing out of his punctured throat. The Yamato was dropped. 

Words died in Dante’s throat. He clenched the dirt and dead leaves in his hands— he shrieked for his brother. He scrambled to him, and was stopped by the daggers being violently yanked out of Vergil. The shards returned to its host, restoring its previously cracked body. 

Vergil crumpled to the ground. Dante grabbed at his brother, blood smearing all over him. “Vergil, Vergil, you’re okay, you’re alive, right? Vergil!” He trembled immensely, his grip too weak to even hold his twin. Vergil’s irises slightly reacted to his name, otherwise Dante received nothing. “I-It’s okay, it’s okay, you’ll heal right? You’ll heal. If I just— I can—” Thick globs of tears clouded his vision as Dante ran his hands through his hair and pulled, “I-I-I don’t know what to do. Vergil, please don’t leave me.”

The Iron Maiden-esque injuries on Vergil’s body did not close, instead they continued to drip, the ground around them utterly saturated with blood. White strands mixed into the blood from Dante’s pulling. “You’re not healing. You’re not healing. Vergil. .” 

Blood trickled from his scalp due to Dante’s fingernails lengthening. The world was drowned out as black filled his sclera. Vaguely in the distance, the demon cackled and boasted of his win; speaking of taking his _prizes_ back to his leader. 

Memories of that day flooded Dante. Skeletons stabbing his brother and calling for death; his home and mother burning up in flames. It was occurring again. 

Rage unlike any Dante had ever felt exploded in his chest. His home, his mother, his father: everything was taken from him. He would not allow anyone to take the only thing he had left in this world. 

Dante stood up with an eerie tranquility. The demon faced Dante and paused. Bright red eyes, curved horns, and patches of chitin-scaled skin stared back at it. The boy’s playful braggadocio had been replaced by feral bloodlust. 

_**“What is this?”**_ It asked curiously, a tinge of fear in its tone. _**“Is this. . a form of devil tri—”**_

The Rebellion flew to Dante’s hand and was thrown like a dart to pin the demon to a tree. It destroyed the jewels on its shoulder, but did not pin it. The demon tried to escape. Dante gripped its arm and in one aggressive twist, he tore the limb clean off. It howled in pain and Dante tossed the bleeding limb away. As the demon tumbled, Dante tackled it and bashed its head to the Earth until its opals cracked. 

Rebellion returned to its Master once more. Dante raised the mighty sword high above his head. Crimson energy throbbed in waves around him. 

His garbled voice and hellish eyes sent terror into the demon. 

“An eye for an eye,” he growled. 

Rebellion sank into the demon’s body with ease, and over and over Dante stabbed the demon. Its gore doused Dante, and each spray of blood on Dante’s face increased his glee. Rebellion tasted the delicious effects of his savagery. 

Meanwhile, Vergil dragged his body to the limb feet away from him. He struggled to heal the mass amount of wounds, and he was in terrible pain due to the texture of coarse dirt stinging his wounds. His sliced throat prevented him from screaming out, or responding to the ghost that had suddenly appeared before him. The faintest touch brushed his shoulders and smoothed his hair.

His mother, one he had not seen since long ago, had whispered to him. She urged him on, urged him to live. Like all the other times, she was gone as quickly as she had come. He wished greatly she would have stayed, but there was no sense in it. He did not want her to witness what he was about to do. 

He clasped the gushing limb and forced himself to sit up. Power is what he desired, and this essence would give him it. His corrupt half had been pleading for it for too long— it would have happened eventually, he guessed. He could not gain the strength he needed from human essences and goods. 

Vergil held the meat up to his lips and opened his mouth. 

The demon’s torso had been reduced to chopped flesh; its organs or what little it had to begin had burst open. Its heart visibly thudded underneath its broken ribcage, and Dante desired to tear into it with his bare hands. Dante saw the vertebrae of its spine beneath the pile of meat. He severed it with the Rebellion, and then kicked the bottom half of its body away. 

It twitched, the last of its crystals breaking off. Fragments on the ground shook from the demon grasping for help. 

“You’re still alive?” Dante taunted. 

He picked up the bifurcated torso by the demon’s neck. How pitiful the arrogant demon looked then, its chest expanding tiny breaths and its compound eyes begging him for mercy. Dante had not even an ounce of pity for it. 

“I would send your corpse to your supposed leader as a warning, but there will be nothing left of you to take.” 

It wiggled in his grip and Dante let go of it just as a violet, cutting vortex shredded the demon into indiscernible pieces. 

Dante turned away from its remains to Vergil, propping himself on a tree trunk with Yamato in hand, his face coated in oily blood. “Vergil,” he whispered. He hesitatingly walked as if Vergil would disappear before him. “You’re alive.”

Vergil nodded. His stomach heaved and he gagged, buckling to the ground. The lukewarm meat and sticky blood churned his insides. Black fluids dribbled down his lips and Dante raced to him while dropping his sword. His twin patted his back as Vergil emptied his stomach’s contents— at least made easier by the slick nature of the demon’s essence. If Dante had known what he had done, he gave no indication. When Vergil seemed to have finished and wiped his mouth, Dante enveloped him in a crushing hug. 

Vergil hugged him back as tightly as he could in his exhausted state, and Dante’s sniffles raised into silent weeping. 

“You weren’t healing!” Dante whispered, his words muffled by Vergil’s shoulder. “I thought you were gone!”

“I wouldn’t let a disgraceful coward end my life. You should know better.” Vergil’s voice cracked. He backed out of the hug to study Dante. “Do you have any wounds? Are you okay?”

The partial ‘devil trigger’ lingered, and Dante was mostly back to a human appearance. “Yeah, I’m fine. As fine as I could be.” He sniffled again. “I-I wanna go home.”

Vergil cleaned the mess of fluids on Dante’s cheeks using the back of his hand. “I do too.”

Their source of warmth and light edged on the horizon, twilight inching closer with unforgiving chill and darkness. The twins huddled for heat, their torn clothes giving no aid. Though the twins thought to keep them out in case of any other danger, their heirloom swords returned to their rightful places. Barely remembering the way back to Ernest’s house, the brothers soldiered on. 

A couple minutes passed until they heard the echoes of their names. 

“Angelo! Tony! Where are you!?” A distraught adult yelled. 

“Tony!” A childish voice came afterwards, just as stretched thin. “Angelo! Hellooooo!”

The twins picked up their pace and soon came upon two beams of flashlights. Their exhaustion was momentarily forgotten as they ran toward the owners of said flashlights. “Over here!” “We’re right here!”

A blinding beam aimed right at them. “Oh my god!” Florence rushed to them and squeezed the two of them together as she hugged them. “Oh my god we have been looking for you two. Where have you been!?” She pulled away and felt the wetness on her clothes. ‘What, what is this? Is this blood? Oh no, are you two hurt!?”

Florence roamed their clothes and skin, checking for wounds. “What happened to you too!?” Her overwrought expression sent pangs in their hearts. “We need to take you two to the hospital.”

Vergil immediately replied, “No! We’re fine, we fell in a ditch and spiky bushes.”

Florence checked him with the flashlight and he squinted. “I can’t even tell what’s what on you.”

Dante showed his unmarred skin, though tainted by fluids. “No, no we’re okay, see? It’s just dirt and stuff. Don’t take us there, please.”

Ernest stayed some feet away, wringing his hands and eyebrows tightly furrowed. “You sure you guys are okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. We got lost.” Dante lied. “We wanna go home, please.”

Florence assessed them again from head to toe for serious injuries. “We will go home, I can see you better there.” She sighed and paused to calm herself down. On the tip of her tongue were questions of why they strayed so far, why they disobeyed, and the details of the severe panic attack she had when she couldn’t find them. Thinking it wiser to hold them off, she ushered the twins and Ernest back home. 

Dante and Vergil clasped hands the whole way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BABY DID HIS FIRST JUDGEMENT CUT, also baby got destroyed i am so sorry— he's okay tho, they got this. 
> 
> so, for the demon, when i first saw it it reminded me of a geode, which is where the opals/crystal idea came in! opals also used to be thought as a witches' stone that could turn its user invisible! :D so there's that
> 
> hope everyone enjoyed! until next time~


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